GM ~ SOHO #20 ๐ฅ๐ฅ
Life itself is an oath,
It is the beauty we chose,
Turning hands clenched by the coast.
Falling curtains are what we love the most,
Ideas hang in the balance of what we are and what we know,
Within a persistent echo,
Digging in our past we find heroes,
With rings around their bones.
I acknowledge weโre only here for a moment.
Otherโs wish for me to steer my mast in their direction,
Hoping to see in my eyes; their own reflection.
I know how you felt, when you found a voice to use language as a vessel,
To create the world around you in your image.
How many others wish to swim in your river and move your pen to their wishes?
To see their own ideas more beautifully expressed and enacted?
With all their failings redacted.
Where art hangs on the pillars of invention,
Where the wall, the floor, the earth,
To the void in our chests that see ourselves in unrest,
Glory waits for tomorrow, where fate is frozen.
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