nothing lasts forever,
nothing remains.
not a memory,
and certainly not these words.
does the rain?
no,
nothing.
not even the horizon
that divides
the land and the sky.
what you’ve built will crumble
to dust in someone else's hands,
what you write will be washed away
with the tides of time.
this stupid poem, these words,
they too will be lost
in a sea of thought and meaningless noise.
