Decided on the notion
That There is no perfection
But, you stem from nowhere still.
Out of nothing, the silence
Stirs and spirals giving form,
Wistful wishes welcoming.
The arrival. The knocking.
What answer lies in waiting?
Prophecy sleeps at my hand.
Fickle heart closes once more.
Thought becomes choice unfettered.
Possibilities withdrawn.
Return once more whence you came.
Only I shall stand alone
And await the morning fall.
No comments:
Post a Comment