The Isle
10/09 2021
To speak of the people you've met, and how:
The good, the bad, time wasted, time well spent,
A day mourned in the light of nightfall's glow;
That can come and go, as long as they went
The day here is no more than a long flash
Of a look, a pair of eyes, a wide smile,
Or what you're owed, as it fades, the ash ---
On those days you waste on that endless isle.
See them change before you very own eyes;
How you flow along with them, just to find
The place you've looked for with ebony cries,
The isle, that feeling of being defined.
To fade, to see, and to recognize it
Is too much than most would ever admit.