Why?

 

Why does life's fabric weave so fine,
In strands of gold and shadows' line?
Why does fate play its covert game,
Leaving hearts aflame, yet souls in shame?

Why do stars, like dreams, softly sigh,
In the silent vault of the evening sky?
Why does time, like a river, flow,
With currents swift and undertows?

Why does love, in its tender grace,
Hold power to both uplift and efface?
Why do roses bloom, then fade away,
Leaving memories to linger and sway?

Why does laughter ring, like bells in morn,
While tears fall like rain, forlorn?
Why does the moon, with its silver gleam,
Haunt lovers lost in a nocturnal dream?

Why does the wind whisper secrets untold,
In ancient tongues, in whispers cold?
Why does hope, like a phoenix, rise,
From ashes of despair to distant skies?

Why does life's melody, so bittersweet,
Echo through time, in joy and defeat?
Why do we ponder, in depths profound,
Seeking answers where none are found?

Why, amidst this grandeur, do we strive,
To find meaning in the vastness alive?
Why do we question, endlessly seek,
In the journey of life, both mild and bleak?