A small circle, an ever-closing path.
A solitary journey, winding around a quiet night.
A lone harbinger of things still yet to come,
Waiting to be filled, a leap before the plunge.
A world filled with emptiness, a fragile stem.
Hope to shed its petals, a reminder of stolen memories.
As morning approaches, the strength of its light fades,
My soul calmly ebbed within, like a slow-moving wave.
A cycle of sadness, a silent song without a chorus.
In its desolation, I find comfort in its familiarity.
Steeling its depths, I envision a world that could be,
One filled with normalcy, as its faded curves remain still with me.
©jamielong
J