quiet mourning contemplating fallacy

when we are children
we see adults as mountains
standing tall against
the mysteries of life
we cannot quite comprehend
yet as we age
we discover the effects of
the elemental state
as entropy affects
these implacable giants
the weather worn guardians
granite complexions
slowly fading as they
begin to hunch over
the weight of the lines
etched deeply reducing
the structural integrity
until the stone edifice
is no more than a hillock
a burial mound in which
we now find ourselves
peering over into the darkness
existence is a child’s game
of defining permanence
with no understanding of
false equivalency
a small pond in a quiet glen
seeming to hold the waters
of life immemorial
evaporating to make the clouds
from which the storms rage
degrading the immortal forms
into piles of rubble
leaving nothing behind
but these jagged reminders
fields of gravel leading to
rows of headstones carved
from the mountains themselves

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