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.