An ephemeral flame at the tip of a wick,
Gazing at the unclouded cerulean sky.
Raises his smoldering hands to touch,
The luminescent glow of the sun, up high.Flickering in admiration of the sun's allure,
He emulates it in adulation by sharing,
Warmth and light, it's his form of worship.He reaches for the sun wretchedly,
Forever stuck at his feet, his curse.
Burning with ever-growing fanaticism,
He diminishes his own youth and time.Until at last, he burns into his own ruination.
And with a flicker and a stream of smoke,
He ends the last of his futile prayers.
KAMU SEDANG MEMBACA
Eleventh Hour Blues- Poems, Quotes And More
PuisiHere you will find aphorisms, poems, quotes and flash fiction presented from my heart to yours. This journal is filled with short and sweet reads for your daily commute, study breaks or whenever you desire. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I...