Life is a myth – a confluence of reality and fiction. They are inseparable. One can not really comprehend where exactly the reality ends and the fiction sets in. This poem puts forth a ‘dystopic’ dilemma that an exuberant life can only overcome.
Is life a poison that slowly pushes us to death,
Or an elixir that prevents the death from coming?
Regardless of whether we all live dying or die living,
Everything becomes nothing with certainty.
Still, we dig for everything out of this nothingness
As it can never be transcended.
‘If God exists and wants to grant you a boon
What would you ask for?’
‘If it so happens that I’ll come to be the only person
Alive on earth, may I be able to pen down poetry
Or pick up the brush to paint
Without dying for an appraisal.’
Picture by Evie S (Unsplash)