It can not stand still, no.
It can only give way to the new, yes.
It can not be denied, no.
You can only succumb to its dominant will, yes.
Friends become lovers, lovers become friends.
Love turns to hate, yes.
Then, you were there, now you are here. Yes.
Life blooms, life decays.
The sun rises, and swiftly gives way to sunset.
Oh, the vitality and energy of youth.
Seemingly indomitable, yes.
But no sooner than it give way to the wisdom and slumber of old age.
Its the ebb and flow of time.
Its what makes us, its what breaks us.
We might need it.
We might loathe it.
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Comments about this poem (Bittersweet by Doreen Maphosa )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
- Christina Georgina Rossetti
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
Harivansh Rai Bachchan
(27 November 1907 – 18 January 2003)
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