There comes a time, it is inevitable, when one does realize
On a warm, sun-kissed day, when one closes their eyes;
No matter how great their achievement, no matter how big their feat,
They will still have to hang their heads in defeat
When Death comes to welcome them, much to their misery.
It is written throughout history
That many monuments have been erected to personify through the ages a kings’ fame,
But after years, decades, centuries have passed, no one even remembers their name.
In today’s fast, brutal, unforgiving world,
One might think himself a pearl
Without whom, the earth will find itself in a stitch.
But they are one among a million, a drop of sewage in a ditch.
One might believe in a dream that is waiting in the distance afar
But they are merely wishing on a remote, lifeless star,
As dead inside as the wisher of the dream.
The human race, it does seem,
Refuses to believe this truth anyway.
We are but a small rock, floating away,
No other being even knows of our existence.
Yet it is our stubbornness, our resilience
That struggles to find a way of remembrance.
We strive to find a fluorescence
That lights the way for no one,
Liking to think that we have won.
We are alone out there, even if we aren’t, no matter.
Our endless degrees of banter
Harm no one but us.
As much as we think otherwise, we are animals, slaves to our lust.
To those who say that their going is rough,
I laugh in their face and say this is all you get, and it has to be enough.

                                                                                                                                  -Aditi Kumar.