We are all but fragments of time;
Scattered in the eternity of space;
Infinite pieces of the past,
the present,
and a future yet to arrive.
Sprinkled over fathomless emptiness;
Meant to fill the path we traveled,
the space we now occupy,
and a place we are yet to reach.
Our consciousness but relative;
To who we used to be,
who we are this in moment of contemplation,
and who we would become tomorrow;
If we ever were.
If we are now.
And if we shall remain,
once we leave these plains of time.
Fragments.
By: Viraj Belgaonkar
