Truth is like mid day sunlight on eyes
it hurts to stare at it, it is too bright.
And truth is like mid day sunlight,
you may cover, shut your eyes tight,
but it still hovers around you,
its piercing glare, too bright.
Seize the moments, the seconds in between,
our breaths are white grains inside an hourglass.
Our limbs will soon stiffen, we’ll be laid in a coffin,
buried and marked by a tombstone on verdurous grass.
Oh seize these hours while there’re beats in our chest,
arise from your recline, damn these legs that wail, exhausted.
The mangoes this season are at their prime and sweetest,
feast on their succulence. There’ll be no rest until we are dead.