The Mercy of Time

Nothing is more compelling than time, as it possesses the power to alter everything subtly and silently. We arrive in this world out of necessity, and in the same vein, our departure is predestined.

We laugh amidst our tears and live hand-in-hand with death. The term "living" is potent, not due to its capacity to roar or assault, but its ability to endure: to bear the responsibilities that life bestows upon us, to weather the joy and sorrow, the monotony, and the banality that reality inflicts.

Regardless of the grandeur of one's life, when the desire to live extinguishes, death becomes inevitable. The culmination of life is death, and the essence of death is either reincarnation or eternal rest. Death does not signify the loss of life, but rather a departure from time.

When life draws to a close, only time stands as an unerring witness. The daily togetherness of a family is a blessing. Life, in its essence, is an individual's experience, not subject to the opinions of others.

Between what the ancient Romans referred to as the time before birth and after death, none of us can foretell what the future holds. Only those who've been trampled by fate can truly comprehend the mercy of time.