Wednesday, February 12, 2014

A Lower Place May Make too Great an Act



These drops dissolved the happiness we chased
We chased them with a vesper to a peak
To get a peek and hopefully a taste
Of such divinity that faults the weak

But in the end these droplets form a wake
Awake and damaged, lambent we'd depend
On all that can depend on what we take
From one another, desperate to pretend

That falling makes us human where we're not. 
We aren't the magic, stars or sunny sets
We set aside in fantasy to rot. 
We're merely scenes we beg that we'll forget. 

I'll try to sleep you off but fail again;
My dreams still come alive with you within. 

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