For We Are Either Death Or Life Poem by Ida Faye

We are an offspring of the world unknown,
A seed on a soil as the wind had blown,
To survive is what we must have grown,
Yet fate decides that failure be thrown.

We are stitches strings of nothingness,
One that doesn’t know what is fullness,
And even its contrast—we call emptiness,
Now we are withdrawn to world’s wilderness.

Does suffering meant death or life?
Is this the earthlings’ common strife?
For we are either death or life,
And to suffering we are on strife.

In every adversity, we try to run and hide,
Or face it with our might; it’s for us to decide,
But what have we been expecting to collide?
Is it an infinite peace or a finite fun ride?

Because we are either death or life,
Molded and ruined by what we’ve known,
Swallowed by the world’s field of greatness,
That even to danger we gladly stride.