We all cut different paths
navigating this random maze
of coincidence.
The same sun rises
and the same night falls
allowing a backdrop
for ancient lights,
guardians of pursuit and passion,
tempus whom mori,
time avails is a useless,
dying illusion.
Our dance of death continues
amidst the silent rhythm of earth,
time kept by motion of spheres.
We are bent and broken
by treachery of clocks,
become fluid and accept infinity,
and our imminent death amidst it.

Niklas Stephenson is a German American writer and poet currently living in Speyer, Germany.
He has published three chapbooks of poetry with Analog Submission Press, self-published a novel, “Bloodbursts,” available on Amazon and has been published in a few magazines, online and print.
Instagram @ _manikbloc_