Footsteps in the sand

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"Does a work in progress will ever be perfect?"
Book of Wesbri 3:25

That is all we are. Footsteps in the sand of time.

A simple taste of light,

a movement without direction, until the eon of passing away,

into the silent eyes,

the bubble of our voices,

the noise that never ends,

ass rumor in the empty skull.

Empty but by the worms that are eating our brains.

The vacuum of being and resisting change.

The possibility of a truth,

poorly handled by a fool.

We are footsteps in our delirium.

Never knowing but the self-imposed silence,

and the fear of dying alone in the mud...

Wesbri, December 2008