We share our fate in languages half learnt,
our words have traveled days of evolution,
in nights our dreams make how we think
and make up for illusion.
We say more than we know.
Combine the two, the day and night,
and we can speak of destination.
Maybe our fate is that we can not stay for long,
we carry so much burden on our road,
we cope and think that heavy lifting makes us strong.
We die although we always thought we would not.
But now and then we may return in quotes,
in déjà vus and photos,
in names and hastily written notes.
We could not disappear, or so we hope.