We are all travelers (original poem)

We are all travelers.
Just passing through
Like the wind
On a stormy night.
Only here
For a moment in time.

But we leave behind
Traces of ourselves.
Both destruction
And beauty.
What we leave
Is up to us.

We do not own anything,
If we are truly honest.
We are only here in passing.
Time is always running.
Running, running,
Out.

To forget this fact
Is to live blindly.
To live in denial.
To waste time.
To simply
Exist.
Unaware.
Unconscious.
Bringing heart-ache
And heart-break.

We are all travelers.
Crafting our journey
Day by day.
Moment by moment.
Through this little thing
We call life.