Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2017
Something sacred taken;
Torn from fingers grasping
At a wraith of things held dear.
Avoiding grasp, fog-like.

Helm now unmanned.
The captain, apathetic,
Navigating blindly;
Insidious, with guile.

All things ephemeral, truly.
Permanence, an illusion.
Substance made fluid
Endows fluidity of mind.
Written by
Mat Jones  21/M
(21/M)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems