As life passes by, our sight slips away,
Unable to see what's incredible.
This world is changed with each passing day.
What seems meaningless is most wonderful.
Water falls from the eyes during heartache,
And yet does the very same in delight.
Both sky and clouds seem to blush at daybreak,
Then burn in a soft, fiery glow at night.
As seasons come and go, leaves change their sheen.
Eyes are swirled with shining watercolors,
Painted with brushstrokes of blue, brown, and green.
One question still stands above the others.
What is the purpose of this existence?
It's so detailed, it can't be a coincidence.