Life Cycle by New Members Poems

My father gave me a railroad watch,  
and every now and then, in bed,  
I open its face and sadly gaze  
at another hour slipped away.    
 
Another day older,  
another page turned—  
a calendar on the wall confirms  
there's a station in life, I think we know.    
 
But with more to say,  
a train's on its way,  
where time rebukes our further stay.  

Life and death dance in a endless struggle,
their hands locked,  but never in peace.
Life pulses forward, a tide of motion,
a force that shapes, that creates, that renews.
It breathes into the world, carving paths where none existed,
only to watch as death erases them in just a breath, leaving the canvas untouched, a silent void.
Death is patient, a quiet presence, a shadow that watches, ever present, waiting for the moment when all things return to stillness.
Life knows this, it feels it, but pushes onward, against the pull of the end, never giving in to...