Visitors

Brevity of life is on my mind so here we go....

Let us be blunt; we all simply rot

Ashes to ashes,

Dust to dust,

But nothing more.

No eternal bliss, merely the here-and-now.

A mark must be made while we still exist,

some remnant must be left, no matter how sadistic that realisation is.

Echoe of an everlasting, 

our legacy can only live on in paper.

For We are neither immortal

Nor valuable beings - simply here then gone.

The best we can hope for

is a faded,

barely palpable signature on the guest list.

Above all, 

Sign that book,

For we are all merely visitors

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed