We Are But Ants.
So minuscule, just like an ant,
We are even smaller compared to the infinite.
And we rage and we roar —
Yet, we could be swallowed by a behemoth
If we stand near the shore.
We set the night ablaze
For we are doomed without a spark —
Yet, no matter our attempts
We will never kill the dark.
Frail and fragile are our bones
And our muscles and our brains —
Oh if we could only turn to stone
To ease all of our pains.
But stones we are not,
We are creatures made from breath,
We are creatures formed from the mysteries
of both life and death.
We hold reality in the depths of our eyes,
And with the rainbows in our minds
We can paint a paradise.
Let us not fear the dark, nor the night,
For what we learn in the darkness
Can help us in the light.
And we can live being minuscule
Being smaller than an ant —
Because in the depths of our souls
We hold the infinite.