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Sometimes, in the lively and dense fog of our lives, small inconsistencies appear.
Short moments when the fog dissipates a little, just enough to see a tiny bit through it.
The reality unveiled beyond the fog brings me to humble, mortal tears.
For a brief moment i was able to catch a glimpse of a bigger picture,
OH, but it is not for human eyes to seize.
If they do endure the sight,
they will quickly retreat to a thicker part of the fog,
where it's more cozy, human and sane,
away from the despair of Ephemeros.

In contrast, if the curiosity is too great, one might risk it's humanity by gazing too long into the gaps of the fog, all the while missing the fun and crazy shapes the fog takes or the colours that shine through at different times of day.

Two specks of dust join each other and decide to deconstruct themselves, both giving a part of them to create a third particle of dust, that is conscious about being a bad speck of dust, even knowing that being this tiny grain is utterly meaningless, it was the product of two bits of dust, therefore this meaningless effort should not go to waste... should it? How long has it been...? ... going to waste for...?
These moments usually have a trigger, today: photographs of my parents when they were young and travelling together... they had a life... how time flew... how much they invested in me... my defects that i can't fix and bring shame only to my inner self and nobody else...
If I am to die before you, I must
Tell you of where I will be.
I will be nowhere and everywhere you
see, beautifully simultaneously.

You don’t have to understand it; I don’t.
Just know that I don’t exist - but
in minds, fixed on family films,
And poetry; there, you’ll find me again.
Bee Jun 2018
was purely a four-letter concept with you

you made hours alone
discussing the universe and its secrets
feel like fleeting minutes

a year passed by
in an ephemeral glance

reality completely deliquesced
with the touch of your lips
and your love was marked as transitory

                                                     ­  ...but those eyes were infinite

ephemerality is the concept of things being transitory, existing only briefly. because different people may value the passage of time differently, "the concept of ephemerality is a relative one"
adriana Apr 2018
the good days burn out like matches.
sparking sleepless nights and bad dreams.
the force of trying to start it again isn't
worth the ephemerality of its effect.
you never should've played with fire.
it's (i'm) nearly impossible to put out
once i'm started
Fritzi Melendez Oct 2017
I'm on a whim contemplating between disparity and continuity.

Stuck between where the fire meets its maker doused in gasoline.

Who self destructed to the point where her hands aren't clean.

And turning a deforested soul into a forest full of wanderlust.

Moving along with Earth's rotation as she becomes crystallized into her origin of star dust.

Cemented between inhaling the start of another new season.

And exhaling out gun powder from the war waged against self treason.

Feeling the outline of my fingerprints just to pretend his skin is still touching mine.

And reading the crystal ***** as they fall down my cheeks telling me his heart was never aligned.

I can't choose between the feeling of infinity and ephemerality.
I struggle to bring myself to balance my emotions.
iamtheavatar Nov 2016
This world is but a graveyard
Of kings and kingdoms
Of philosophers and freemen
Of sacrilegious arrogance

For we live in a vast wasteland
Of prospectors and merchants
Only a few steps from oasis
Battling for a distant mirage

Humans are mere beasts
Like hyenas and lionesses
Fighting for supremacy
In this endless ephemerality

**iamthe_avatar ©2016
Thoughts about life.
Kastoori Barua May 2016
If you ever glanced at me you’d see
My pained eyes that silently scream
The utter helplessness of being in love.
You may give yourself into the arms,
Of another man and he may in turn,
Walk out on someone like you,
Reminiscent of the autumn clouds
That are made of our dreams,
Delicate as the wings of butterflies
That are lettered with our wishes
Their wistful glory is lost palpably
In some mysterious dimension,
For all things are ephemeral.
And so in the end, it doesn’t matter
If you belong to me or to him
But you must belong to poetry,
Your inimitable essence worded,
Which forever defies the cold rains
Poured from the urn of timeless Time.
Mike Essig May 2015
However much think you know,
It is no more than
the thinnest gossamer thread
In the vastness of what is;
However much you value
Your worldly experience,
It is only a tear
In cistern of salt water.
Take courage, only the earth abides.

Lakota saying: Take courage, only the earth abides.
Akemi Apr 2015
All these beautiful people taste like death
February 17th 2015
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