Poetry and The Heart Space
How glum to think of gone First moments, distanced Youth; memories like print Where love’s gone amiss. Farewell once seen cities; dreams Pour back to hand as smoke to mouth. Sculpt wheel’s pliant clay in hopes -- Better solar stay in echoes of caves Begone first spun knob of we, Eroded locks of keys unpaired, Frozen hearts in halfway land, Bereft optics as eclipsed sky, Sun burns down on too-late cries.
Copyright: Selene of The Sky
Independent learner and lover of subtleties. I identify my analytical mind in philosophical terms and would like to believe it generates in this way, not to bring me harm, but to bring awareness of how individuals and groups act in society. All thoughts are discovered within. I aim to spread love and promote the acceptance of Self. May you feel comfort with my observations of this world. View all posts by seleneofthesky
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