In the silent vastness, I stand alone,
A fleeting spark in worlds unknown,
Questions echo, relentless, deep—
Why do I wake, and why do I sleep?
The universe, endless and cold,
Its secrets hidden, tales untold,
A cosmic joke, a distant stare,
A void that whispers, "Are you aware?"
Time slips away like grains of sand,
Lost in the grasp of an unseen hand,
Existence fragile, thin as air—
A fleeting breath, a fleeting prayer.
Dread drips heavy, a silent tide,
A lingering fear we cannot hide,
Yet in this darkness, faintly gleams—
The fragile hope of broken dreams.
Copyright 9/26/2025
~P.C. Snider
