Our transient life is laden with
so many sudden twists and vicious turns
that when Death arrives to claim the soul,
we can only pine for the time
and efforts spent to remain on the track.
The track is what the society
has vaguely marked with ancient lines
for us to race like hungry rats.
Those who had deviated from it were outlawed
for violating the stereotype.
In the end, as we look into
the frozen eyes of Death and breathe our last,
we shall find that the abysmal eternity
gives a damn about the outcome of the race.