Scratchings in the sand only just beyond the surf at low tide, the sum of all human art and expression, destined to be obscured and erased by the persisting, unstoppable erosion imposed upon us all by the flowing of time. A difficult fact to accept, to approach all one's work, all one's creations, in a nihilistic sense, as temporary, that it cannot be preserved no matter how much effort. That one day soon we will be gone, and all the words we uttered with us.
P#17347 2015-12-01 11:30 ( Edited 2015-12-01 17:16)
Love how the poem gets washed away. I included it in my Pico-8 Jam #1 compilation video series, if you’d like to take a look :) https://youtu.be/LE0NF8O7rUM
P#17664 2015-12-10 08:10 ( Edited 2015-12-10 13:10)
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