It reverberates with a vast and low drumming across the hollow space inside the soul, occupying simultaneously the distance of the universe itself and the unimaginably minute.

In a space of good fortune and rebirth, so conjunctionally close to death—

It is present moment and past, both godly and cripplingly mortal, to the place that resides between eternity and transience.

Both golden with ecstasy and layered in the decay of sadness,

For a brief moment we are truly able to see it. So silently we stare at ourselves and everything there is, 


And we know.


With nostalgia already dripping from every moment and pooling at our feet in the regret of lost time.