Jun 29, 2024, 7:17 AM

Mist 

  Poetry
58 0 0

No matter what in front of your shield occurs, 

Joy or woe - that hazy void in your heart -

will never fulfilled grow. 

 

As if it always seeks, but never finds. 

Even in the moments of quiet dwell, 

Even in those, filled with glee and thrill, 

never with the present utterly binds. 

© Losie Calp All rights reserved.

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