we are but offerings
we do not own a thing about us
our thoughts are not ours
our body merely temporary
our souls just smoke that
rises to the sky the purpose
of which is merely to vanish
we know all these yet
we embrace the hope that
there is more to all these
crap, that there is more to
smoke like a scent that
sticks to the walls of the
earth that gives a name to
what we are from the beginning
we hope that there is eternity waiting.
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