The Fabric of Time: We Arrived Too Late

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I wrote the following many years ago:

Had we not been so busy
Paying off debts that we owed
Had we not been so busy
More love could have grown

Despite all the living around us
We chose to embrace death
Consumed by proving our worth to some
We turned our back on the rest

Though our life was short
We lived as though it were not
Acting as though we were immortal
As if we’d get a second shot

We looked so shallow
Though the pond was deep
We clung so tightly
To things we could not keep

We obligated ourselves
Until we were no longer free
A moth in a spider’s web
A soldier without leave

We asked forgiveness from nature
A thousand years too late
Like a ship without a shore
We found ourselves a victim of fate

Space with no end
An abyss without a floor
An object without shape
A room without a door

Our mind falsely convinced us
That wrong was right
The moon was not as thought
Simply just the sun at night

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