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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1656636
about how we r all visitors in this world
I feel the wind play with my hair,

I feel the sand brushing against my skin,

I close my eyes for a moment,

And the moment is gone,

And can never be brought back,

It’s the same old story,

Nothing is destined to be there forever,

Not even the earth and sky,

We are all visitors in this world,

Its just a station in a long journey,

Yet we struggle so hard,

Refuse the idea of our immortality,

Stop hanging on,

Because no matter what you do, no matter who you are,

One day your time will come,

Your end,

And all the money in the world,

Would nt be able to spare you a minute more,

Live it until its your moment,

Yet we struggle so hard,

Refuse the idea of our immortality,

We dream of forever,

We aim for perfection,

But its all a dream that proves us so insecure,

Nothing is destined to be there forever,

Not even the earth and sky,

We are all destined to end,

From ashes we begun,

To ashes we return,

In the end it doesn’t matter who are you or how rich and prosperous you are,

In the end we r all ashes scattered by the wind,

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