We are predestined

To live and to die.

Even those who hold

In the palm of their hand


Must one day

Turn their crystalline eyes

To mortality.


For what good could come,

Of walking the earth forever,

Of taking root in the ground

For all the ages of the world.

For the years passed by,

Would ultimately

Erode your being to the very core.

What good could come of that?


For by an unseen hand

of superior knowledge,

We were put on this earth

To walk and live,

To cherish and grow,

To hold tight to our fate,

And in the end die.

When then,

We would take our place

In the evening sky

For all of eternity.