terça-feira, maio 20, 2014

Dawn

The Sun will rise.
Everyday
whether I like it or not,
whether I'm inspired or not,
whether I'm feeling like shit
or I've found the meaning of life,
that's what it does,
it rises, and sets again,
whether I smile or cry
it doesn't give a damn,
it's not supposed to.
We're a speck of sand
and a strike of good fortune,
an insignificant event
compared to its rising -
That is the Big thing,
the mystery,
the awesomeness.
Me failing to sleep to see it rise
is just the center of my own existence.
The sun rises
and it would do exactly the same if I slept.
The sun will rise again
regardless of who's around to watch it.
If I'm dead or alive matters very little
in the cosmic sense of it all.
My tears,
my twisted stomach,
my panicking brain,
as well as my hopes,
my future joys,
my memories,
my everything,
are cosmic irrelevances,
now
and always
as long as the Sun rises
which it will.
now
and forever.