Poetry

Live

Live.

And while you do, fly.

Run. Dance. Laugh. Fall,
break into songs if you may.

Nothing is promised, not tomorrow.
An artist once said:

“We live in a capsule of time” –

Our essence is wrapped in it.
And at the end, we fade

into the back pockets of time;

we dissolve into memories. A moment

that was. No one remembers

your whole existence –

you are lost in trance like

a name spelled backwards.
So, write, to live forever.

 


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