Sunday, February 07, 2016


From the continuum of destiny
All that is of real value to us
Flows only from our next moments
How will you use this gift?
Before instance takes it away
And it is become worthless
For once it passes unused
Riding the waves of time
Like a ship of grey ghosts
It will never return
Save as longing memories
Lost dawn mists rising,
Sighing upon the aether,
Like bittersweet chiding
Fate we make for ourselves
It is our sibling of destiny