Life's frames are fleeting, like sand in time,
Slipping away, like grains that align.
We grasp and cling, to what we can hold,
But frames of life, like moments, grow old.
Yet, in each frame, a piece of us stays,
A fragment of soul, in life's fleeting ways.
And when we look, through frames of the past,
We see the beauty, that forever will last.
So let us cherish, each frame we make,
And fill them with love, for our own sake.
For life's frames are precious, and few,
A limited edition, of me and you.
And when our frames, are finally complete,
And our story's told, in life's final beat.
We'll look back on, the frames of our past,
And see the beauty, that forever will last.
©twisha ray
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