In the sunlight of my everyday ambition,
You are but a memory.
Every time the flame of hope burns out,
I return to you.
Hidden in those shattered apparitions;
dulled, aching, distant and serene.
When meaning and query is similarly lost
In the chamber of harmony,
devoid of reveries, desires and quest,
I see my life as though it weren’t mine.
And I then I dream of you and your smile
And once again in the fissures of feelings
Those ambers glisten and come to life.
I stand watching life shake itself
of ennui and listlessness
and embark on a slow jog into
concentric longings, needs and wants.
In giving me the strength to live again,
Are you not my dearest friend?
In pushing me out of my ephemeral peace
Are you being my deadliest foe?
Or by being both,
you compel me to laugh, cry and live?
