The Oblivion Of Time

How many days fall into the oblivion of time

How many moments, simply discarded, for the sake

of the future or the past, losing ourselves in

temporary pleasures of the flesh, while we

forget we forget, years after years

How many days will I truly remember

when, mere seconds before death I contemplate

and reflect, on a life half-lived,

spent almost awake

At times I catch myself, living through

minutes and hours and weeks where I know.

I know I won't remember. Moments that don't

matter. And it's then that the absurdist in me

yawps at the void of life ;

To an indifferent silence, not even an echo.

And as my many days, I myself will inevitably

sink deeper,

in the oblivion of time