To sculpt a face in the sands of time, sit at the mouth of eternity, pray the tongue of waste and wanting wont taste your tears, deem you lacking then retract and take with it the flavour of life.

The salt of your identity joins waters dark and turbulent, where reflections are foreign and the monstrous roar of chaotic fluidity, perfect indifference, will wash away the fear of belonging.

Brave the shore, place each step surely.
Worry not that the tide swallows past, for it’s nothing but a reference to grief.

The horizon looks on at you in wild wonder, in envy.
You, the setting sun, who paints the sky a dream of freedom.
Whose colours inspire symphony winds, which lull today to sleep, resting now in tomorrows memory.

Stars offer themselves a crown to your curiosity, count the jewels and know their worth.
Seated on a throne of promise, today you sweetened the tongue that tastes us all.

Today you lived.

Published by Lobster Thoughts

Poetic expression and general madness.

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