We drift so softly, still break in the end,
Moon rising faintly, no path to ascend.
The pull to step out,
To let the sound drown out,
A fleeting dawn, too bright to stay,
Soft embers lost to yesterday
What remains?
The place, the time, the shadow stains.
You falter, play, let it slide,
First you feel
The tide subside,
And what’s left
Lingers in your mind.
Hands stained with the weight of days,
If there's no truth to chase, no one to praise,
I'll still laugh beneath this heavy sky,
And push the stone, though I don't know why,
And clutch the fallout, though I don't know why.
May 30, 2025
May 30, 2025 at 5:27 AM UTC
We drift so softly, still break in the end,
Moon rising faintly, no path to ascend.
The pull to step out,
To let the sound drown out,
A fleeting dawn, too bright to stay,
Soft embers lost to yesterday
What remains?
The place, the time, the shadow stains.
You falter, play, let it slide,
First you feel
The tide subside,
And what’s left
Lingers in your mind.
Hands stained with the weight of days,
If there's no truth to chase, no one to praise,
I'll still laugh beneath this heavy sky,
And push the stone, though I don't know why,
And clutch the fallout, though I don't know why.
Request permission to use this poem