The Excerpt of Time

There’s an illusion we hold in the experience of forever,
That voids meaning in all else,
How misfortunate to deny meaning from all of life,
Where is this—always?
Now—until, before—until now?
The desire, we all share:
to be in unison until our days end.
To resist,
and lie blissfully—
suspended in the untroubled repose of inertia,
all to uphold forever.
But change—
the sigh that weighs heaviest on the heart,
is in becoming,
and the somber farewell from which you’ve come,
But what was forever, when forever is no more?