ephemeral-artifacts

When they ask us how long we've been something, I want us to reply with an i n f i n i t y sign, To say that our tattoos won't last as long as us, That even Rome fell but we will not. We dug up Cupid's grave and he belongs to us now; (Venus keeps asking for him back.) We are our own religion, And I've never believed in anything quite so strongly. I'd call you the sun, but it'll burn out eventually; Sol can do nothing to stop his own demise. (Not even Neptune can drown us.)