Time is a veil,
It hides from us
The passing of
Our static lives.
It is also an
Illusion, that
Is just painted
Before our eyes.
We keep it and
We take it but
It is never
Truly our own.
Black holes and stars
This time jut starts.
Every moment,
Never alone,
With you.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Petrichor
PoesíaWe grow old eventually {here are the waking thoughts that consume me}
