If I die today.
I would fade away like those petals
which fall away as the winter embarks,
my makeup would switch its color
like those leaves as the autumn starts.
My body would be as cold as the chilled snow,
and lifeless as the log floating to and fro.
My soul would be a feather,
drifting through the wind, carefree and aimless,
hovering through places and spaces.
But even after my death one thing would still bother me,
was I able to change my fate, or was It just-just like that, written in those stars and me
spent it, like it’s supposed to be.
Was I able to achieve something in this time course?
or was I also destined to be just another decaying corpse?
If I die today, my body buried under the soil would slowly rot,
my existence being extinct, I remain as a fitful thought.