We leave traces
Of ourselves behind,
Pieces of our souls,
Pieces of our lives;
Everyone that has
Ever lived and
Everyone that
Ever will live,
Will all live and
Die on this delicate
Blue globe in the
Black nothingness
Of space.
I consider it all,
And run a hand
Over my stubbled
Chin and drink
A chilled wine,
As ‘Solitary Man’
By Neil Diamond
Crackles from
An old record
Player next to
A bookshelf in
My dusty
Drawing
Room.
I consider
All my lost loves
And future loves,
And understand
That our human
Connections make
Possible the absurdity
Of existence as I finger
A copy of ‘The Myth
Of Sisyphus’ by Camus,
And take another gulp
Of white wine as
I look through a
Window observing
The city below under
A dying sun.
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With a digital painting from Nikos Laios
*******************************
Check Nikos Laios' eBOOK, HERE!
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