#dustandstars
What is my worth? A fleeting breath I hold,
A borrowed spark, returned to time’s enfold.
What is my station? Dust upon the air,
A vanishing trace, a whisper unaware.
I came unbidden, and I leave unnamed,
Yet through my passing, something bright is claimed.
The crown may crumble, thrones to earth descend,
Yet in my breast the pulse of stars won’t end.
I rise as nothing, yet within me reigns
A will that shatters loss and breaks its chains.
Each fall instructs me: strive, ascend, aspire,
Each limit bends before the soul’s desire.
O’ Time, you count me grain by fleeting grain,
Yet I measure you in meaning, not in vain.
If I am dust, it dreams of fire untamed,
A spark that turns the meek and small acclaimed.
If I must fade, let fading be my flight,
A rising ember cast against the night.
For worth lies not in staying, nor in place,
But in the courage to embrace the chase.
I vanish, yes—but not before I see
How dust may speak to stars eternally.
Feb 8
Feb 8, 2026 at 1:19 AM UTC