Immortality
The world’s a stage where mortals tread,
Brief actors bound by time’s thin thread;
We strut and fret, we dance and play,
Then fading whispers steal us away.
Yet still we dream, of marks that last,
To cast our shadows on the past;
For fleeting lives will slip from sight,
Unless our voices outpace the night.
So we raise our children, seeds we sow,
In hopes they’ll bloom and boldly grow;
To shape the dreams we dared to weave,
To build anew, yet…
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