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_