Feb 2022
Even in the dark, comets still fly
Like a radiant moth called to flame.
Hidden among lost and frozen stars,
Acceptance lay still and forgotten;
A consistent game of stagnation,
Until the hunter found the fountain;
Until you found me.
Like a radiant moth called to flame.
Hidden among lost and frozen stars,
Acceptance lay still and forgotten;
A consistent game of stagnation,
Until the hunter found the fountain;
Until you found me.
This poem is my feelings of a while bundled up into one poem. A lot has happened since I last posted and only now am I in the mood to write, now that itβs all almost over. Each line has 9 syllables, until the last line breaks the pattern.
