Like life, like a knife
Like air, like water,
Like snow, Like fire, like time,
I am not good neither bad,
I am just what I am.
I could be loved or hated,
Welcomed or fought,
It’s all ok with me,
It’s all the same.
As she walked with confident steps
Towards the life she wanted,
Looking poised and prepared to the world,
Her mind was cluttered with muddled thoughts.
A gradual qualm had taken over her,
Does the end always justify the means?
She visioned it happening differently,
And what if the life she wanted
Is not really the life that is good for her?