A young man wanders the world;
He loses his name in wonders,
Dissolved in warm oceans of bright fish,
Dispersed by crystal winds on cold mountaintops,
He scatters the letters undaunted.
All things seem gold and glitter,
Captivating angles of the prism reflect life,
Time brews even coffee into lethargy,
Distills even water from stone.
The world goes grey.
And, all sounds became silence.
Trees black and white,
Moon without a face,
A laughing maudlin beyond our sphere.
The young man walked the world,
Cold earth between toes,
Slime creeping up the back of his sole,
Still he stayed clean.
He speaks to those around him,
Loses touch, tries to remember,
Asks for whispers of his name,
None know him,
He is a particle unbound,
A snowflake drifting almost melts,
A tree with dead roots waits to fall into shadow.
At last, he comes to an old man,
With a beard as white as his dead eyes,
Eyes grayed by too much sight,
And he asks again for his name.
The old man stares, sees nothing,
And says, son, your name fell here,
Drenched in memory,
I keep it in my heart beat.
Tell me, he begs,
The old man keeps staring,
Unseeing and unbreathing,
For he too had died.