The life we choose to liveThe us we build

The painstaking steps

That would lead

To this exact day

This exact spot

Where we stand 

Still we feel

There is more to built

More to show

What is now is an incomplete picture 

The complete one can never be achieved 

We can run we can fight the storm

But never complete the picture of our own life

Completing the picture would mean befriending death

Whatever we built in a lifetime

Remains incomplete, is open ended 

Has some loose threads and incomplete sentences

A lifetime is spent in building a single sentence, called life

And the full-stop is still borrowed

From the people who we leave behind 

So why run? Why chase the dreams, why build the false self

For we cant even complete our own life’s sentence.