I will be lost one day;
This I know, above all things
For all forms are fleeting, merely
Destined to drift off into memory
Growing ever more distant in mind
To those left behind to preserve them
And further still, even those memories
Will be truly lost in the unknowable,
A shifting void whose name we whisper
In awe and reverence, a grave god
Known in our tongue as Time
I think that’s whats so great about writing, we may all wither with time and all memory us will too. But our ideas are immortal, and I think that is amazing 🙂 glad I stumbled on this blog- cheers mate
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Thanks for the kind words, Jacob, that really brightened my day. I know my response is a bit late, but I’m glad you enjoyed the poem!
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Glad I could do that for ya man! 🙂
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