A Living Contradiction

An oxymoron
Is what we are
Hopeless optimists,
A beautiful disaster,
Alone together,
Fighting peacefully,
Talking silently
Whispering loudly our well-known secrets, and
Loving furiously

Maybe when I'm old
And my skin is wrinkled
And my hair is starlight grey
I won't be able to look back
And tell of my grand adventures
Over mountains
Through caves
Under ocean depths
But at least I will be able to say
I loved well
And in the end
That is the greatest adventure of them all