Beyond the Horizon

Birthing in a fresh delight scent

We chisel moments in doubt

Crowding thoughts with desire

Which we fear to be sent to reach

Yet in a dare to step on faith

We thaw clouded with questions.

Resentful!

We march on hope

Trumping what can be

With the limit of our sight.

Beneath the Surface

In a game of words

Where resolutions

Sound like a game of cards

We met at crossroads

Eyeing the past with envy.

Trumped upon

We watched what we thought was the sunset

Dancing at the hyper of moon edge

Urged just to step at the brink of time

Yet unhinged to the reality of seconds.

Called upon

We feared morrow as sipped our morales

Pretence in embazzled to what was love

While crowning the moon to be the day

Yet drown to candle under the bed.

Weary Feet

We were born chasing the wind

Yet the tempo was always shy from perfect

Crowned in rags, feasting on morrow’s fantasy

Borrowed

Scaled to our sweat’s rhythm

We burnt our backs chasing

While time was always insufficient.

Barricaded to pleasure

We were the host of it all

Yet none played at our platters

Feeding a few in celebration

While the rest feast on blisters

As the tempo for life,

Tapped through holes.

Wholesome from afar

We were the jewel of the moment

Yet glittering to none

Deemed fools’ gold in our awakening

As our birth, had a tale to tell

But the tail of the past

Had a goal to score.