You arent getting younger.
Weakness within you,
or attack from outside,
someday will make you suffer.
One day, Death will take you.
Yet still you live, and see, and care.
Holy Hell is this world messed up!
But this is what we got to work with.
We need energy aplenty.
The trajectory of life
is the flight of a paper plane:
swiftly launched, soaring, drifting, falling.
Slowly over the lifetime,
the rising energy ebbs,
and the falling energy expands.
Make of it what you will.
Life will launch you, as You, just once.
Next time youll be some body else.