
All We Are
I built my name in silt and bone, each word undone before it stayed. My hands drew meaning past the border, and the wind rewrote my faith. I carved my will into the current, etched defiance into clay. Time condensed like glass on skin, and every breath wore me away. We chase the shape of permanence with fingers that can’t hold. We sing through broken chambers and call the fracture home. All we are is borrowed motion, bodies circling what we’ve sown. Every monument forgets its shape, every truth invents its throne. Cities breathe in ash and iron, crowns of glass and circuits rust. Every empire hums the same requiem, a hymn beneath the crust. The orbit hums with memory, each spark devoured by decay. I name the ruins after meaning, and the meaning slips away. Creation feeds upon reflection, progress births its own undoing. The sky denies its architect, and stars keep dying, blooming. All we are is borrowed in motion, embers inheriting the flame. Every truth corrodes in language, every crown forgets its name. Nothing ends, it just rearranges. Every beginning, was already gone.

