Mortality

I saw the barren branches touching the monument, of what once used to be lush, green foliage. The moss depicted years of neglect and non-maintenance. It was an isolated place. I remembered reading somewhere, about the place becoming a hideout for criminals.

I thought of the books that I wanted to write, the intellectual legacy that I wished to leave as footprints in shifting sands. I do not think even a tombstone would be relevant.

Only the lives that I touch during my lifetime will matter. Every other ambition is just conceit.

leaving legacies

just feeding human ego

mortality rules

JSW Prompt

Image: csknotts