No limbless stone will
stand memorial to our
attempts in this brief life,
standing on a pedestal
on some future date,
nor will few fragmentary
verses from our hand reach
eyes set to born when
we are dust; no, only
our atoms will remain,
part of this universe,
yet the ripples we made
spreading, growing into
waves unseen, sculpting,
writing the coming time.
28.06.2024
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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