It hit me, how I recall not
The crowd evoked a curious thought
How many a story untold
Must these numerous souls withhold
Composed they were on a grand scale
As deeply rich as my own tale
They were more than props in my day
All were titles of their own play
My mind grappled, to no avail
Unnerved by the thought’s cosmic scale
Past each living saga I strode
Each a blur, a twig on the road
Photo by VikramAdith