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.