Strive to break
the curse of being
tied to our lives.
Hexed by the body,
we crumble and collapse. No matter
how much faith we have, Doubt takes
hold of the reins fastened to our eyes.
The world weakens
with each step, the cerulean sky smogged.
I long to find the definition
of my existence—I run my finger down
the page, but the entry is blank beneath
my name—on this planet where souls disappear
to die. Bodies wither
in the rolling tides of green
lawns—the hills grow as we wilt.
I reach out my fingertips, the world lashes my knuckles.
The thing that I want—
a word on the wind will misshapen and disappear.
YOU ARE READING
Words Lost in the Wind
Poetry*Revised as of Feb. 2020* A collection of poems about fleeting time, mortality, and lost things. Maybe you can find them.
