Are w too young for this?

Here in the golden dusk of the question's kiss,

Twilight thoughts murmur,

"Are we too young for this?"

Sparrows, not yet eagles, shiver in the abyss,

In the throbbing heart of youth's recklessness, amiss.

We stand on the precipice of dreams yet unborn,

Pulling at the tendrils of dawn,

hearts adored,

With crowns woven of wishes and starlight, forlorn,

We ask, are we too young, or merely love-worn?

A comet streaks across the canvas of our youth,

While constellations of wisdom echo a deeper truth,

Our tender years wearing the mask of uncouth,

We query,

"Are we not yet old enough, forsooth?"

Are we saplings too young,

still craving for the sun?

Or ancient trees groaning,

our battles won?

Do our hearts still pulsate to the same rhythmic run,

Or have we marched to the beat of a different drum?

Here we sit at the fulcrum of time's grand old scale,

Where the past is a ghost, and the future's veil,

Hides a path untraveled, a dreamer's tale,

In the balance of the young and old, we sail.

We are but the waves in life's ceaseless tide,

In the ebb and flow of years, we confide,

Never too young for the dreams that coincide,

Never too old for the love that won't subside.

The moon in her wisdom, whispers to the night,

"Neither too young nor old, just hold on tight,

For life is but a dance in the shifting light,

A ballet of moments, in darkness and delight."

So here, under the cosmos, our questions persist,

Neither too young nor old, in life's endless tryst,

We're just pilgrims in time, in the morning mist,

Are we too young for this, or simply exist?