Poem by Sebastian Hills

 

In realms unseen, where dreams reside,

Let me weave a tale, with words untied,

Of a world unformed, where life’s thread is torn,

Where whispers ponder if we are never born.

 

If stars refuse to ignite their cosmic dance,

And sunsets fade without a second chance,

If oceans sleep, devoid of gentle waves,

And forests hush, concealing secret caves.

 

If laughter’s melody remains unheard,

And every song, a silence undisturbed,

If colors fade, drained from the artist’s brush,

And love’s sweet touch turns into empty hush.

 

If children’s laughter never fills the air,

And friendships bloom not, stripped of all care,

If poets’ pens fall silent, lacking verse,

And blessings, once abundant, disperse.

 

What beauty would be lost, forever gone?

What stories untold, what battles unwon?

What joys unshared, what sorrows untamed?

What legacies forgotten, left unnamed?

 

For life is a tapestry, a vibrant creation,

A symphony of moments, an eternal sensation,

Each soul a brushstroke, each heartbeat a chord,

If we are never born, what is life’s reward?

 

Let us treasure this gift, our existence profound,

For in the tapestry of life, we’re beautifully found,

Embrace the fleeting moments, the lessons we learn,

For without birth’s chance, we would never discern.