It might not be long, the time will arrive,
When we leave it all—the days we survived.
The treasures we gathered, the stories we spun,
Will fade like the mist beneath the sun.
Sooner or later, the call will be clear,
A whisper that silences all we hold dear.
To meet the ones who came before,
And stand in their shadow, on eternity’s shore.
What will we say, when the questions arise,
When the weight of our deeds meets the truth in their eyes?
Did we sow kindness, or scatter despair?
Did we build bridges, or refuse to care?
Each moment we lived, a thread we wove,
In the fabric of life, of loss, of love.
Did we honor the gift, this fleeting stay,
Or waste it in darkness, casting light away?
It might not be long, but there’s time still,
To change the course, to bend the will.
For sooner or later, we all must go,
Leaving behind what we think we know.
So let’s walk now with purpose, with grace, with light,
For the path ends only when day turns to night.
And when we are asked what we chose to be,
May our answers echo in eternity.
~Umar Jamil~
