Words, like wine, curse through my veins. Of struggle, and time, carved from celestial light above. Silent, ancient water drawn from vines. A captive beauty, sculpted of fruits, so ordinary at the time.
Thoughts, like butterflies, slowly circling, Landing, fluttering, soaring to the sun above. Eluding capture on graceful wings, Small pieces of soul taking flight.
Cords from yesterday, tying my hands. Words I uttered, strung out in a line. Stars along the way, lighting my path. Moonlight and eternity to guide my steps, And roots deep in the past.