A faint glimmer
Raged against her created darkness
Years in the making
She persisted
and won

I am no poet
but a hypocrite who marvels how you
Stir a soul as effortlessly as your gaze to mine
An unknowing muse
Dried ink could never match your quiet grace
A living poem

This time is different
Did what I could but fell so short
So what's left?
My tired glass; apathetic walls
My tired arms; a muddied breath
A tired soul
My reflection its regret
But with this same glass
A tired soul can sleep
An exhale to it all
If only this poem brought the same solace

I tried to live without intent
Dreams of a distant blue mountain  
a green brook stirs the origin
This faint moment centers a yearning
of unlearning
this windowless office
a narrow life
I am finally on my way.

I finally close my eyes
Inhale a moment of closure
a quiet prayer answered, relieving
my earned dread
I'd do anything to not exhale
and start again

Will you still be there
Aching soul; loving void
to linger and be empty
Just a few moments, please
To make sense of our nothing
How little we show
Until our next
How I'll dream of it

A catalyst
an offering to Asclepius
everlasting and present
The most beautiful chaos
A beauty of titans amongst gods
she unexpectedly radiates

A moment to keep