Untitled

Truth and beauty are both fleeting
pleasure is fleeting
you can only grasp them for an instant before they are gone
crush them like a moth if you hold on too long
time upon this turning world is fleeting
it seems like it goes on and on
but oneday you wake up stooped and tired
and it hits you, the brevity of it all
the impermanence of any state of being
the fragility of desire.