Your belongings (be)long to/for the materialist of Earth.
Your memories belong in the cradle of the hands of time.
Your talents belong in the rucksack of circumstance.
Your friends and family are shadows on the pavement
of the path you travelled.
Your lover belongs in the warmth of your heart.
Your bones belong with the typhoon of dust.
Your soul belongs in God's horcrux.
Your moments.
That's all that's ever yours.
Moments.
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 12:05 AM UTC
Your belongings (be)long to/for the materialist of Earth.
Your memories belong in the cradle of the hands of time.
Your talents belong in the rucksack of circumstance.
Your friends and family are shadows on the pavement
of the path you travelled.
Your lover belongs in the warmth of your heart.
Your bones belong with the typhoon of dust.
Your soul belongs in God's horcrux.
Your moments.
That's all that's ever yours.
Moments.
