The Artist and the Architect

We drop our jaws in awe of what we were,
what we can be, and what we will become.
Time goes by and it smells like a difference.
We'll follow it, never find it, but discover every
single other thing there is to know.
When we are done we will look up at the sun
and never turn away because there's nothing left.
Nothing to know, nothing to forget.
We just listen but nothing stays and nothing goes away.
We are frozen in the sand, hand in hand, with
burnt faces peeling away.
Layers of lies and stills of secrets never kept.
The birds will eat our thoughts and teach the sky
everything it needs to know to never fall apart.
The sun will be burned into our bones.
Our image, burned into the sun.