This is nothing but a
Game of life.
Full of power-ups,
Achievements,
And mistakes.
Real or fake,
What's the difference, you ask?
It's the result that's the ultimate task,
For after death, there's nothing left to gain,
No second chance to play the game again.
We are waiting for the moment where
Our relied-upon life support stops beating
It's reminiscent drum.
YOU ARE READING
As Time Slows Around Us [Poetry]
PoetryAs complicated as time itself, like the silent conversations with the moon and sun, lie the complexity of the screaming but silent thoughts of the stars. "All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." ...
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