Photo by Kyran Aldworth on Unsplash
After every moment,
there's a part of life erased,
permanently tethered to
a point in time and space.
Every second that we've lived,
is one in which we died;
memories of prior lives,
we've buried deep inside.
Piece by piece, the childhood self
is glacially replaced.
Day by day, the mirror will
reveal a stranger’s face.
Why should we be fearful of
our final, fleeting breaths?
In our lifetime, we have died
a million little deaths.
About the Creator
Siddharth
I write like someone who’s eavesdropped on too many conversations in public transport and felt too many feelings on rooftops.
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