Slipping through frail fingers,
Fading quickly, grasp to hold on.
Pale aquaintance of the shivering wind,
Will make the heart beat faster.
Shooting stars graze the sky,
But the moon quietly watches with good intent.
Slipping further and further, tries to hold on,
Brilliant light shines as darkness tries to take over.
Flames burst and shake against the ground so cold,
Trees in spring flourish and colour themselves,
Blue skies shine ever vividly.
Shivering wind trembles into oceanic currents,
Shooting stars crash into the changing earth floor, shattering.
Slipped so far down, struggling to breathe,
Darkness overwhelms the birhgtest of all illuminating lights.
Flames cru, ble to ember and melt into the hard ground,
Autumn leaves spin and crash like the one who drowned.
Drowned in the charcoal sky, not a shred of light from the conscience shone.
Washed away with a violent grace,
Tears shall forever fall,
Never to cease.
Slipped through frail fingers,
Nothing to grasp but a faded memory.
As memories fade, time replenishes. Every aspect of Nature is enraged, causing collapse. A strong realization that not even Nature is a match of Reality. If it is still within the century: I dig this.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a nice poem, Dead Poetic. Read my poem, Love and L u s t. Thanks.