sometimes i forget that i, we, are a mere moment. a mere, fleeting moment that tastes like eternity to us. we are a fraction of life within the infinity of pooling black and painted planets. (sometimes i wonder if we are a canvas that each god takes a turn to create.) (or are we just existent? nothing more, nothing less.) though, i suppose a consolation would be that we are told we are made of starstuff, forgotten bits of old ingrained in our bodies, our flesh, our bones. thinking of that makes me feel a little less ordinary than we are made out to be. (though do we know the meaning of ordinary? are we really that same? we are a race of creatures who fight against everything that threatens us, yes we know war, we know peace, we know fists, but in a way, we know survival.) (yet so many glance at galaxies and feel the insignificance cast upon us.) (we are not insignificant.) (we may have made mistakes, we may have tainted our blue and green planet with violence, i do not deny that, but we touched the sky, we walked the moon, we saw through the space between the stars and saw something more.
— yes, we are a fleeting moment of fire and starstuff, but to us, it is a forever wrapped with earth, water, and broken clocks.
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SUN SETTING
Poetryit was at that time of ruin, that the stars rose from their graves. skytaints | all rights reserved ©
