In this darkened interlude
of earth and sky
and its kaleidoscope of light
I see the irony
there’s comfort in the handprint of man
but none in the icy coldness
of the void beyond
where its suns shed no warmth
are our feelings only pasted
within the thinness of our earthly envelope
where raindrops birth and drop
and wash them all away
what worth has our ambition
our quest for brief bits of truth
when we perish in a wink of fate
and descendants know us not
Nov 7, 2024
Nov 7, 2024 at 5:41 PM UTC
In this darkened interlude
of earth and sky
and its kaleidoscope of light
I see the irony
there’s comfort in the handprint of man
but none in the icy coldness
of the void beyond
where its suns shed no warmth
are our feelings only pasted
within the thinness of our earthly envelope
where raindrops birth and drop
and wash them all away
what worth has our ambition
our quest for brief bits of truth
when we perish in a wink of fate
and descendants know us not
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