time passes me by like a falling leaf,
landing nearly on the withering grass,
what happened to the bright tones?
where has the joy of spring headed to?
moments ago, your eyes showed me the sky,
the everlasting pole star led my nights,
now gone; I've no sense of direction.
I spoke to Chronos and asked:
'oh, lord, why did you steal away my light?'
to which he replied:
'my son, it is not me, but you who shrouded
the linear path towards the brilliant sky.'
every night, the November night sky hid him
from my gaze, the frivolous dark
meant no harm, yet no pain was ever greater.
tell me, burning Sun, why should my heart seek
something you cannot provide?
why should it loath the passing days?
time flows like a morning gale,
sporadically loosening its grip,
until it detains, alas, it is over.
YOU ARE READING
twelve moons
Puisi"Unfathomable Sea! whose waves are years, Ocean of Time, whose waters of deep woe Are brackish with the salt of human tears!"
