Only by reading we become able
to write the fading echoes of
our existence into flowing time,
but long before it runs dry
those echoes are gone, lost;
yet the feelings they carry
repeated in what has taken
their place; for most human
beings are in essence one and
the same, with superficial
variation. Like one ladybird
opening its wings, one human
reaching for failed immortality
is little different, from another
ladybird opening, closing its
wings, of another human
writing their name in flooding
time to be swiftly erased.
15.-16.05.2024
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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