The shadows we run from helps us turn
The inherent aptitude, from page to page.
Writing books with no table of content
Just preface gotten from the naming days,
No human can take back the hands of time;
The characters in here are none frictions.
Grey and shadows are our awaiting shelves
Forever young is a pie in the sky.
In life we live, we Author our own book
Writing our own stories on mortal sheets.
Current page is at times the worst page of our books
Though at times, not the case, for those on top the world.
Every day a page turns for next chapter to come
No Author knows the end of his story.
The shadows we run from lives by the grey
An inherent aptitude in our books.