It’s but a house of cards, a 10 years of building that crumbles and fumbles its position upon the collapsing destiny and then is heard no more.
We like to say, “life is short.” Yet, it is long enough for me to get lost in the flaws of the trivial and the mundane.
10 years of making. How many 10 years do we have? How many 10 years can we build upon? How many 10 years is trustworthy? How many 10 years are getting lost? How many 10 years do humans have? How many 10 years can light travel?
The only sentiment is the sentiment unabled; is the sentiment of powerless; is the sentiment to nothing but oneself.
The only path is past; is the seen and the chosen; is the certainties within the possibilities; is what you are regretting and cherishing.
Only time will tell.
