Somewhere down the line

we will see the waves part.

The walls of missing fossil records and

the floors of ever-shifting sands

will envelop us.

As we cross the brink of home:

what lies beyond? What awaits us

through this sea of uncertainty?

If nothing else, is it just you and me?

Our soft footprints, shaped by all our happenings.

Our fresh bodies, abrased by all our fears.

To form me, destined to lose everything.

Because the damp sands hold no pillars.

Cast the Path and weigh our hearts by Duat.

Why did you go down that way?

Can you not see the thorns?

But our minds, punctured by only our dreams.

Loved by our pain and

bruised by our joys.

To form me, insisting to listen.

Because maybe I already drew mine

on the fossil record.

Next to Mau, my irritable friend.

Next to Samena, my village of perseverance.

Next to Earth, my sweet home.

Give me the chalk and see me draw. It

will wash away on the sunrise, but

how beautiful I can only see it now.

Is that not enough?