A Hundred-Year Flame

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 I used to see the world in lines,
In stark and simple, bold designs.
A black and white, a cruel divide,
With one part dark, the other, light.
My heart held fears that kept us bound,
To separate on common ground.

But then I saw a fleeting truth,
That passes fast, from age to youth.
We are but sparks of a hundred years,
With fragile hopes and whispered fears.
Like stars that burn and then are gone,
We share the dust we're built upon.

Why build these walls of caste and creed?
Why plant a separation's seed?
When every one of us, in time,
Returns to earth, a single rhyme.
We are but people, born of love,
Beneath the same vast sky above.

Let's drop the lines that keep us apart,
And find the shared home in the heart.
For in this fragile, passing race,
Our one true home is an embrace.

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