Haiku — 0041: Ruin

Of civilizations gone.

What is the price one pays for their arrogance? The idea that their existence transcends time itself?

Sands of time sift,

Vestiges of greatness lost,

Lesson on hubris.

Time, really, is the great leveler.

The behemoth that swallows civilizations, hiding within it, their remnants, a record of fossils.

The graveyard of ambitions and aspirations, that which many wished to outlive, some remembered for centuries, some for millennia, but, inevitably, buried under the immense tide.

The keeper of records, ideas, inventions, memories, and strategies, leading one development into the next, a connecting thread, despite the dunes of eons hiding many a beginning.

The faint existence that allures superstitions and faiths, showing just enough to sound fantastical, not too much to be realistic. A repository of all that is mythical, “impossible”, outlandish, heroes of legends, villains of unimaginable strengths, battles of epic telling, powers beyond a common idea — That which allows the existence of hope and belief, that someone existed in the past, and can exist in the future as well.

The one true existence in all of the universe, marching only forwards, from the beginning to and unfathomable end — Or is it a cycle, from one beginning to the next?

That which contains everything, the great leveler.

Time.

Yesterday’s Haiku —

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