Immortal
The year turns the corner
A page flipped in a book
How many pages does it have?
No one quiet knows.
There are countless books
Old and new
Some are detailed description, definite endings
And others are blurred, unfinished sentences.
As each year passes
A new page turns
And fills itself with words
New stories, new dreams, new worries.
And each year the book grows older
The pages become worn
The memories are forgotten
And the stories untold.
One day, the book will end
It will complete its last page
But until then it remains
A collection filled with ongoing life
With pages left to fill.