I was here

On the walls of the world, it is proclaimed:
“I am here”
A small declaration in the shadows of giants.
But I will be forgotten.
And the giants remembered for hundreds, thousands, how ever many years.
But the history of mankind is a fleeting thing.
An ephemeral thing.
I will be forgotten
Just as the fearful might of Ozymandeus
Who Crumbled to his feet.
I will be forgotten
As will the bells of Notre Dame,
The colosseum, the Taj Mahal
I will be forgotten
As will the canyons that run through the west
And the networks of roots and fungi
Formed thousands of years ago.
In the earth beneath our feet.
We will all be forgotten.
The universe will reclaim our world
In moments or else winding years
Where land takes back what was taken.
And that too will pass
In the glorious beautiful death
Of trillions of years of existence
But for now, In the proclamation of fine point sharpie:
“I was here.”