Echo

Welcome to this world of ambitious minds
Governed by determined wills and hopes sky high
The idea of interminable toil is a common one
Angst defines the inhabitants of this non melodious choir

Yet one cannot help but wonder if it is all a lie
Is this toil in reality a fruitless try?
For all the great men have come wishing to be amaranthine
But of them remains nothing but echoes lost in time

Dreams are dreamt only to be realized
There are no traces of ecstacy and ebullience
Nor is there any heart that cries
Monotony is the sole definition of their lives
Perfection is the only goal they wish to acquire

Yet one doubts if perfection is a dream that can ever be achieved
By the restless with soulless bodies and unimaginative minds
For many have come dreaming to be perfection personified
But of them remains nothing but echoes lost in time

Nothing has the ability to escape the claws of time
Yet everything has the ability to mould its share of time
Some waste their share in efforts to be invincible
While others cherish each moment like the last drop of wine
Pieces of broken dreams have made them bleed and cry
Moments of joy have made them laugh till their eyes are no longer dry

The latter indeed reach the end of their time
Yet their lives are so complete that they are content as they die
Their share of time is heavy and impregnated with sorrow and joy
Heavy enough to leave footprints on the sands of time