And I will have left
Some kind of Mark,
Even if all it will be
are the mediocre works
Of Me.
"She tried, but,
Her accomplishments are only
Barely notable."
It's all so laughable.

I look into the white clouds
And laugh
Until the beads release
And drown my imagination.
And all that's left of me
Is fizzing whizzing whirls
Of swirly empty space
And explosions.
That's all We are, You know?

How dare We believe
That We are more
Than all there is?
Don't you see this fallacy?