Am I just a vision?
Just a toy for some celestial being?
Only one voice in the unison of the masses?
Only one rebel in the thousands of hopeless?
Am I just a solitary mind?
A person prohibited by time,
lost in the crushing wave of society,
trapped inside man’s own comforts?
Do I know my world?
Am I nothing to this celestial ball
but a lost memory,
a fading object,
a word once spoken but soon forgotten?
Will I be remembered?
Loved? Cherished? Hoped? Wanted?
Will the masses know my name?
Or will I perish suddenly,
vanishing as unwanted and unappreciated as a solitary speck of dust,
into a timeless void where none know my name,
none remember me,
none hope along with me,
none wonder at God’s great majesty with me?