Transience

Everything is temporary,

The moon fades,

The sun sets,

Even stars burn out and die.

One day your soul will be free of this earthly skin,

If you were great you may have a road to your name,

Or stories of your fame.

But stories will be just stories,

People don’t even read books anymore.

Then how do we look for such permanence,

In this state of permanent transience?

Ritika Jolly