In this world, we are all transient guests. That is the rule of nature.
A rain drop at the tip of a grass,
Last grains of sand in a hourglass,
An insect winging over a toad,
Ending line of a lovely ode,
The sparkle left in a dying fire,
Final melody of a weeping lyre,
Glimpse of the sun before the darkness,
Or the instance we adore prior the illness.
Copyright © Jayaruwan Gunathilake - All rights reserved
A feeling of oncoming darkness is what this great poem has left me with.