"i lost the vanishing traces of the trails on your track;
we can never get them back."
day by day, i've become used to sing
the cheerful melodies in the dead of the night
to dance every cycle to wake my sleeping mind;
a pursuit in his shadows i cannot find—
i got dazzled by the sun scorching so bright.
i meet myself in my meticulous trickle
for a span of fated years:
absorbing each version in different spaces
for he, he who was never seen himself
at different arrivings, at lonely places.
through all the careless spinning in his own axis
he orbits every cycle, in his last stop
he ponders every last touch, every last drop--
is that all the gold left on your spiral socks?
or is it all the ashes holding me back?
pursuit, von f.
February 10, 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...
