In a language that touches the soul,
Thoughts pour forth, quiet and whole.
The dice have fallen, the game's at an end,
Looking back, through time and space, around the bend.
If I were young again, oh, what would be different this time?
Would I walk the same path, or follow a new rhyme?
Each choice, a path in life's intricate lace,
Each step, a part of my own embrace.
Years flow like water in a stream,
Each joy, each pain, a heartfelt dream.
Had I known what fate would bring,
Would I have stayed silent, or chosen to sing?
Yet time, a cunning thief so sly,
Steals moments softly, without a cry.
Youthful dreams, so vibrant and wild,
Now just memories, tender and mild.
In the quiet of the moment, in the depth of night,
I see that life, in its own right, is a beautiful sight.
The dice have fallen, yes, it's true,
But each throw was unique, and wondrous too.