Catch a mocking dream

Yes, cold as the ice
are the mind’s eyes
when catching a breath
from the attempt
of accommodating
the breadth of their
grand designs
into tiny demands

while wild and
defiant blades of grass
curve oneirical smiles
into the sky
longing a way back
to green pastures
of past urges.

the resigned rose
watches its petals
and clings
with her pride
to the illusion
that the allusion
of timeless love
it embodies
will eternalize
its brief existence
in some ether slice.

Not now.

that all is to pass
except the future
is no longer relieving.

So it remains
to have some faith
that since
thought can be tough
the indescribably
naive babble
of these
meager lines
will somehow
the passage of life.

Explore posts in the same categories: Literatura y Fantasías


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