Are words never enough
Should I start over again to let the words break down in our mouths and ears?
I am unfolding the story, ever-changing.
Always seeping into the untold story
That wants to remain unsung
But yet, I cannot speak
I cannot be present
I am transparent and clear.
Only clear in color
Never in mind
Needing threads to intertwine
To create a glory
Rope.
A rope that keeps me hanging on
And slipping is not an option
Yet what else can I do,
Self-destruction, a shell to hide
Only to become more of the turtle
But although the race is long
Time is everlasting,
Neither being your friend nor foe.
So ask yourself, where am I
In the grand scheme of things?
Just a particle.
Dust.
Yet we are the dust that becomes new life.
Dust that gathers strength from soil and tears from clouds
And reverts to its original form in time.
In time. In time. In time.
Life, the original form.