The Construct of Forever

always falls flat, a broken promise

as soon as it’s uttered by the offender,

because nothing can last for infinity

no matter how much we wish

there was a way to destroy the clock.

the hourglass tips over, sand spilling

down to count the seconds draining,

and it’s all just such a grand charade

to think we can outlive ourselves

in words and deeds and memories.

but no one knows what exists between

here and death and even beyond

the plane of human understanding—

and we comfort ourselves with our lack

of knowledge in this sphere of being.

just when you think you grasp it,

the futility of it all, then something

begins to make you hope and dream

that maybe there is more to life

than what we live and breathe.

life itself may be short, abrupt, chaotic—

but humans are steadfast and stubborn

enough to make it through the days

which may feel meaningless at times

but always persist to their endings.