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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2018859
Rated: E · Other · Other · #2018859
Poetic Metaphor
I hear it.

The silence is broken,

and I am awakened.

Sometimes it comes unnoticed,

but I always see it-

sooner or later.

Another piece falls.

Standing, hoping to catch it,

hoping to grasp it,

hoping to hold on tight to the beauty for what it was,

but it just melts away.

I watch as the pieces fall to the ground.

Watch as they crumble.

Watch as we step on every piece,

turning it into a dust.

Knowing still that one could always try;

Try to stay and scoop them up,

try to make something new of this-

But this,

This is the image of immortality in its finest state of being.

Pristine, and simple.

And we are always the knowing;

That even with its beautiful fragility,

A world shattering storm lies only just beyond the horizon,

Coming with the rising sun as I stand,

Watching it all fall away,

sooner or later.
© Copyright 2014 Jayden Wyte (vputdallas41 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2018859