I sit on the beach
Nostalgic beyond words, thoughts
Scattering, running
Upside down, like sands
In a broken hourglass;
In search of meaning
Through transient freedom
Lost in reckless abandon.
Though in the process
Of being, living
Immortally suspended,
Incarcerated;
Still, invisible
Quite incomprehensible,
Until they dissolved.
So, I walk away,
Like the spilled sands, my thoughts
And my heart, simply, ran out.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Summer Sands
PoesíaSummer The days are longer The night skies Draped in stars, Shimmering pearls in the ocean; While the seagulls soar Above the ever, turning tides.
