Photograph by mini—mir

Once upon a journey, we, striving once again,

Flailing as if falling, but nary to an end.

All the signs emerged in time, written on her breath

Words and deeds colliding, nigh, truth alive in death.


Demons borne of lack and strife, subdued yet unabated

Haunt the charming insides, while outside lust is sated.

Grasping ever deeper, we, pretending not to know

Blind and searching in her eyes, as far as that might go.


It seems that as one seeks a thing, the chasm gapes anew

And casts love down like pearls, they say, among the chosen blue.

Trust – a coy mistress, she, delicate and fragile

Slain by flimsy things, and lies – able fleet and agile.


Daisy braids and little bear smiles, a bliss to last forever

And all the while the fear, it stalks, to see that bliss be severed.

No one longs to feel the chill of loneliness arriving

All roads may come to an end – but never shall the striving.


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