And, if a beating heart were proof
Against each wind and storm,
I’d always have a lofty roof
To keep me dry and warm.

I’d tell myself to settle down
And feel myself at home
And wouldn’t covet great renown
Or seek a pleasure dome.

And yet a heart’s ordained to beat
A century at most;
Thereafter, it concedes defeat
By giving up the ghost.

As such, it shall be gone one day,
But consciousness is here to stay.

Photo by Michael Dziedzic on Unsplash

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