Eternity – Anvi Lohia

It stands,
large, imposing and white.
a large, foreboding black metal gate
guards it
from danger, for eternity.
yet it will soon
collapse into a pile of rubble,
replete with larger remnants:
red, earthy bricks
encased in a coating of white paint, thick.

it stands
large, imposing and white.
for the opposite of eternity.
The gate will fall too.
a large engineered claw approaches
from a corner too far for me to see.

Scrummaging through the potential rubble may lead to discovery,
of everything,
that had disappeared from sight
within the black metal gates.
A watch, an iPhone,
another iPhone,
a macbook:
its software disappearing into a deep abyss of personal unfamiliarity.
a t-shirt,
make that two,
no three,
a whole set of rubber bands,
possibly hundreds.
a bracelet, two pairs of earrings,
broken glasses:
the transparent shards disappearing into the furthest corners of white marbled floor,
with accents of black