Life is in itself an irony
A cry sometimes could be a source of joy
For it could be the heralding of a baby girl or boy

Life is in itself an irony
The child strays off to his own hurt
But the mother watches keenly
For she knows pain may sometimes be the guide for him to mature

Life is in itself an irony
Though the stage is set and all is perfect
She would never have made it as the celebrated celebrity
Had she not put things once important to her to utter neglect
The gloom of her story built the foundation for her glory

Life is in itself an irony
The laws we set to bring us peace
Now fuels our lust for war and rivalry

Still the simple act to forgive
Could get us the peace we seek for free
And the world could still be a happier place to be

Life is in itself an irony
The things that seems to bring the most joy
Are just elixirs to keep us temporarily happy
So we are confused and never do we seek true joy
Cos its way easier to get a glimpse of ecstasy
And constantly we are damaged and destroyed
By the same things we thought would keep us happy

Life is in itself an irony
All that we would have ever wanted
Was once right before our eyes to see
Alas in our ignorance we were ever so blinded
Though He spoke with unflinching confidence and humility
We would neither listen nor be converted
He wrought signs and wonders for us to see and believe
Yet with the pain of the cross he was unjustly rewarded

Life is in itself and irony
In fact,
If irony were to be a word then life in itself would be its definition.