Depressed Poems or whatever it might be

2

They always said a Phoenix would rise from ash. Instead I'm left with mere dust. Particles who's only meaning is to exist for the sake of it. 

Despite the meaningless form. Even after spending all it's energy. There is one thing that shall never be lost. A form of time far out of reach. But you can see.

And it's painful, to lay your eyes on a past that you used to hold on to so dearly.

And it burns--

A time so happy that time itself became irrelevant.

And it hurt--

A place so euphoric that the past wouldn't matter and the future didn't exist.

It killed.

For a life consisting out of a single moment is so fragile that lacking a single element will result in collapse.

Collapse followed by relapse. But there was nothing to relapse to. Take the moment out of this life and there is nothing. A crushing emptiness was filled with dust. Dust with no energy. Dust with no meaning or reason.

But have you ever related to dust? Isn't it how they always said--

You are but dust and shadows?