It’s something I think about almost every day… I’m in my mid twenties but a long life is never a guarantee, and I’m always wondering when my time will come or how. It’s dumb but the way I see it, the earth was here before I was born and it will continue long after I’m gone. My brief existence will be remembered by some, but within 100 years, only a few people would have known I existed… 🥺
Sorry for the depressing post, I had a sad and weird dream this morning and I can’t stop thinking about it ☹️
This page is a permanent link to the reply below and its nested replies. See all post replies »
This poem by John Donne gives me both comfort and understanding of our mortality.
Death, be not proud (Holy Sonnet 10) John Donne (1572 –1631)
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so; For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee do go, Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery. Thou'art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, And poppy'or charms can make us sleep as well And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then? One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
