• anna_grace 45w

    Minkowski Space

    When the past is hurled
    Towards a future that is is muddled
    And when the present is simply
    Yet to start taking place
    Life is nothing
    But a bunch of coordinates
    In a four dimensional
    Minkowski space

    When silence is golden
    When music is molten
    When voices drift out of old
    Memories are nothing
    But random points
    In the continuum
    Of space time

    When vision is trained
    On a goal unseen
    When the heart is trained
    On a future
    Olden and new
    Numerous and few
    Qualities are strewn
    A string of possibilities
    In a theoretical space