Sunday, April 15, 2012

The finitude of things

Shadows move, clouds move
blood flows as do air
leaves fall, so does hair.

Conversations end, roads end
seasons change as do friends
they move on, we move on.

Seconds tick by, today dies
you grow old as your coffee colds
the dead, their voices fade.

Life crumbles
all that remains is dust
what say you of its quietness?

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