Legacy

just another stain in time waiting for the harvest

And here I am just another stain in time waiting for the harvest
Words dressed in a dusty leather cape,
Marching in the ranks of the unknown
Words that get tilled into the soil along with the sweat from the laborer’s brow, where they are both forgotten
Words written on the husk of the corn
Words that get consumed by the fire,
Words that get broken along with the stone.