The world is constantly ending in
Little deaths that fall all along
The earth’s axis as it lives in
Perpetual suspension between the
Warmth of the sun and the cool
Breath of dying stars
Time is an object to be grasped at
We try to capture it like tears
That fade and evaporate under
Orange light while shadows burn and
Disappear into scorched land
Where we once stood where we’ve
Commemorated the history of what was
Smirking at the end of what will be

Author: Erica V.

Always seriously joking and rambunctiously soft-spoken.

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