It’s here I consider my worth in this world,
as I sink my feet into ancient paste which swallows me whole and makes nothing of it.
It’s here I can’t leave a mark at all;
every footprint eroded and every skimmed stone bedded where I found it in the first place.
It’s here I glower into Sky’s fiery eye
which blinds my sight with its superlative blaze, but cannot see its pitiful victim.
and it’s here I am as dust is to the wind; insignificant friction amid nature’s drift.
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