Time is far kinder to the Earth, who knows not her own age,
We, men, we scurry about our lives,
Feeling the unrelenting press of our own mortality, time ever waning.
But she, she is resolute, needing prove no significance to herself,
Unaware of the infinite stream.. surrounded by the nothingness she shall one day become.
Unflinching, aloof. And we! Such foolish men we are,
Trot about her and hold ourselves as gods,
while so short is the gap between life, death and rebirth,
We are present for but a blink of the universeâs eye,
Ah, we! Men! So brief are we, and so brief shall be,
Within that endless reach of time..
Of the same matter composed, But cursed to know ourselves.
And thus we flail about to leave desperate marks upon our world,
Unaware that she too will decay, that she and we shall return to dust.
All to dust. All to nothing. All to dust.
Returning to that womb by which all was conceived,
and from that womb to be conceived a-gain!
Ah, yes even is matter mortal, for atoms decay.
All will fade, all created again, a phoenix in a flame.
Terra; the Earth and her brothers and sisters who know not of us,
Nor the names to them assigned,
When gone we will be unknown to them still.
But we stand proud at this moment, a race still adolescent
Foolish, but beautiful in our efforts, beneath the eye of the universe,
Which will always remain too grand to be by us perceived.
We seek purpose in our lives, but have none to inherit.
And thus are free to create our own, to stand in the ceaseless river of time.
To stare back at the universe and her many children in the sky,
There is beauty in our brevity, and wonder in her longevity,
But she too will one day die. Even eternity itself is not eternal.
All to dust. All to nothing. All to dust.
tangentwithtanner
yousharknotpass
prguitarman
andulkaphoto
vaporwave
2087
