You are a sheathed dagger.
You are a mystery; a colorless blur.
You are here for an hour and then in a minute you're not.
You appear everywhere as time starts to rot.
I can't even stand your presence.
How much more should I endure with those piercing stares?
I can't even bear to remember your essence.
What more could it be if your blade cuts through there?
I feel like I am watched and I guess so as you.
If our eyes lock, I might not get through.
As you disappear, I'll stay right here,
Hoping that it is not you that I hear.
You are like smoke— an apparition.
You are an emissary, only to cast an illusion.
I don't want you to look at me for I might stumble,
Because as the past cracks, the future starts to rumble.
