last years of my life are truly tempting
to let me out of my own deep daydream:
rushing through hours of pending works.
the west, east, south, and north
aren't going all in the center
to observe me paralyze there;
as i wish to halt backwards
the seconds of time.
i just stood there, not minding the eternal time.
poems like this are hard to rhyme.
i just sit the plumage of my back:
resting its shoulders on my body,
the sun's going down:
the leaves are going in for the sunrays
that my back can't see,
the trunks stop my hands
for reaching the sun
that's out of my spectrum.
but still, the flowers remind me
that in dawn; out of the sun,
my gloom bombards even the depths of my euphoria.
when the rising sun isn't shining anymore
for the sun to grasp my little hands;
i still need to close my eyes
under the shade of the green tree,
and never catch the sunrays back.
dropping the sun
June 14, 2023
YOU ARE READING
Pieces of Moonbeams
PoetryPieces of Moonbeams | 2023 This poetry collection contains proses & proses woven from my heart. Pieces here are a part of me. Stained by longing, love, grief, hurt, happiness, and any other available emotion I could profoundly describe. -- I am rel...
