Destination
Dream, Desire, and Disappointment
Let me hold you in my hands, let me feel you before you slip away, at least let me ask you to please stay. Don’t whisper from the horizon dear, come knocking at my door, however brief your shadow dances, let me watch the floor.
When time demands your glimmer, I long to witness it fade. When destination remains always an almost, I shall then suffocate. I shall sketch the journey, suffocate as iterations compile. With my hands clenching to hold your wind; my trying begging to be worthwhile.
Mightn’t my arbitrary road lead to you…
Mustn’t you meet me closer, then?
The past calls for an answer, she asks when will you come, how do I tell those pleading eyes, I am not sure if you will ever arrive? I swore an oath to her, a singular encounter then I would never complain. With you always dallying at the horizon, my loyalty is beginning to wane.
And if you are a fallacy… so then you must depart. Won’t you weave me in you before you fall apart?
Thank you for choosing to read my weird little words.
Midst mischief and metaphors,
Sim