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Rated: E · Poetry · Psychology · #2205085
Shaping the future, shaped by the past.
Enter here, see?
Deeper into me.
Free from you, I’ll never be.

Always near,
yet ever amiss.

Head over heel,
head under a wheel.
filled with you, nothing feels real.

Far too close
to ever resist.

The eclipse showed
what eluded us,
the next one turned chains to rust.

Until then,
I lived in pure bliss.

Until silent turned
Oblivion’s horns
and ‘til brittle turned
the frostbitten bones
of a boy raised by sticks and stones.

Engrams rose to conquer ignorance,
varved an epitaph to innocence:

“Forget us not! Forgive us not!”
I assure you, I will not;
Some reminders never rot.

Is this all there is?
Pulsing blazars, burning
to cinders Noah’s dove.

Is this all we get?
Black event horizons
devouring our love.

Advent in September.
Reaping in November.
Love's final contender,
Frozen by December.
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