Mystery
Binding shackles, stifling leash
Dirty silver cylinders crossing my view,
Over the line is but a hollow abyss,
I stretch out my hand no stranger to the amiss,
To fortune or destruction, all words fall deaf,
Matters not if remembered for this insanity,
For salvation is when I do not need to hold my breath,
As a moment's insouciance is considered a luxury,
It dangles like a rope, this distance brushing my tips,
Attempting to grab it, it only I moves further away,
Struggling and flailing until my limbs stagger,
I take a leap yet touch my sweaty hands and sink into the pits,
Staring at its diminishing form, it disintegrates,
Not before jeering at my hapless state when it was all surreal,
I cackle and a bitter cry resonates,
I wonder what was ever real?
-PjS
2021-04-19 16:04:19
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