How old were you when you realized that life is, in fact, not all sunflowers and lilies?
It's a tapestry woven with threads of death and fear, love and suffering.
Where roses, with their delicate beauty, bear thorns that pierce your tender flesh,
And men, with their enigmatic minds, can send shivers down your spine.
How old were you when you realized that a happy marriage is but a myth?
A mirage of sadness and hate, submission and pique,
Where life is a game of chance, with no guarantees,
And death, like a thief in the night, can snatch someone away in a single breath.
How old were you when you realized that there's a devil in everyone?
A terrifying presence, loud and cruel, sinister in its ways,
Where all that glitters is not gold, and you are left alone in the end,
And Even God, perhaps, can sometimes pretend.
