This world's now a grassy bay,
filled with ochre, pale and dust,
grass heads bent, twirl and sway,
all at once, with a moment's gust,
but just as fast, as the current steers,
a new wave drowns the yester's years.
the thoughtful posts, or a candid phrase,
all lost by the time, till another gaze.
a story thrives, at the brink of a day,
by dusk, it's driftwood, washed away,
a thousand likes, a glance, and then..
the scroll resumes, all starts again.
since this hush, this speed is all we know,
this ceaseless, mindless forward flow,
I watch them all, a rushing and crashing stream,
chasing and striving, the momentary gleam.
among this stampede, I remain,
standing stillness, beside the lane,
below a flickering lamp, an opened door,
hoping one will wait... perhaps once more.
in a world where miles are crossed with ease,
yet being known, fleets away with breeze,
who has the will, and the time to hold
to stop by the road, for a tale being told?
Feb 16
Feb 16, 2026 at 5:50 PM UTC
This world's now a grassy bay,
filled with ochre, pale and dust,
grass heads bent, twirl and sway,
all at once, with a moment's gust,
but just as fast, as the current steers,
a new wave drowns the yester's years.
the thoughtful posts, or a candid phrase,
all lost by the time, till another gaze.
a story thrives, at the brink of a day,
by dusk, it's driftwood, washed away,
a thousand likes, a glance, and then..
the scroll resumes, all starts again.
since this hush, this speed is all we know,
this ceaseless, mindless forward flow,
I watch them all, a rushing and crashing stream,
chasing and striving, the momentary gleam.
among this stampede, I remain,
standing stillness, beside the lane,
below a flickering lamp, an opened door,
hoping one will wait... perhaps once more.
in a world where miles are crossed with ease,
yet being known, fleets away with breeze,
who has the will, and the time to hold
to stop by the road, for a tale being told?
