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Call it Quicksilver-
something I hold to,
leave and return to,
lose in dark leaves;
never quite keeping,
thoughts flit, and are fleeting,
covered with sheaves.
Sleep, and its missing,
ne'er to return;
Hold! Feel its kissing,
overtake with its burn-
late to my tongue,
but one part of the sum,
sifted like rays in the afternoon sun.
Call it Quicksilver-
that thing dreamt at mid-day;
call for it, longing-
but its gone;
slipped away.
Puny Penguin Jul 21
I know that I am mortal by nature.
My presence will eventually be erased,
and I will be forgotten.
But for each and every dreamlike moment I spend with you,
for a brief moment, the universe holds its breath.
Time stops. If you blink you’ll miss it,
but if you don’t… you’ll see an
immortal and pure love that transcends time and space.
Everything will fade to black
and there will just be us and only us if not for a fleeting moment.

Like watching a timelapse of the night sky,
like watching the glowing star trails,
time flies when I’m with you.
We spend hours on end together
only for it to seem like a handful of minutes.
Time marches on. He is his own master. He waits for no one.
Through Time’s eyes, us humans
have only been around for less than a fraction of a second.
Despite that a mere second with you is an eternity.
Even if it’s a passing moment, it’s a moment spent with you.

Things are temporary.
There are only so many hours of sunlight,
only so many hours during the quiet night.
There are only so many fairy-lights lighting the night sky.
And our time together will also one day come to an end,
as all good things do.
Despite this, the years spent with you,
the months, weeks, hours, minutes- each and every single second
spent with you will be treasured and cherished.
You are loved. Now, today, and until the day that I die.
Not the original format... but this'll do. And to you who spent a passing moment, a short glance at my writing... thank you.
Bryn Kennell Jul 9
Breath visible
Ice sculpture ephemeral
Fear Inevitable
Beauty Immeasurable
Quixotic Jun 27
Early hours with smoke and rising skies
Sleep that drug we denied
We knew
Even then , this was -
Ephermal as ephermal could be.



Unacknowledged,
In deafening silence, our
Entwined fingers knew
Through beating hearts and a myriad little hurts ;


We weren't a forever
Barely a today,
You and I -
- Broken, breaking,
fallen, falling -
Albeit a plot hole
In each other's stories.
We knew , we knew , we knew
We knew we would break
You or me
Still we stayed
The charade had to be played




(After all)
Con May 29
What does it take
to not feel temporal —
for happiness to stay,
for love to live?
Every thing is changing. We should keep up.
izzn May 17
I went to beautiful places
with you by my side
Basked you and I
in glitters of the sun
Ephemeral longing
like a riptide
it was shortwhile
and I don't know why
you come off a little bit shy,
tryna hide
that little little smile
but I know,
I know it's time
for me to open up
my eyes.
In dreams,
I'll meet you in warm conversations.
Shining soap bubbles
dreams swell with swirling colors
popping at day break.
Came up with this one today actually 02 / 25 / 20 because I know I had a very long dream last night but as soon as I woke up ****** it was gone! can't remember a bit of it... oh well... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Aneesh H Jan 31
Let me be a bird
And fly in the sky
Free from all fetters

Let me be a fish
And swim across the seas
Free of all bounds

Let me be the wind
And flow everywhere
Free of all barriers


Let me be the sun
Let me be the moon
And caress the nightly Earth
With my cool milky warmth

Let me, let me just be
Myself...!
Freedom or Liberty is a value that every living being longs for. For me, freedom is the escape of my mind from the inevitable mundane. An elevation of my spirit to something transcendental, and not ephemeral. Not necessarily a permanent refuge but even a momentary catharsis in the continuity of chaos.
Dante Sep 2019
I’m always grasping. Trying to retain some form. Painfully and desperately, I try to keep it, shape it, define it into permanence.

This longing for certainty, this anxiety and desire to be— like the statues unmoving, named and certain— to be something I know, forever, and ever and ever.

But our splendor is in our changing, in our ever shifting consciousness. The heart floods and becomes empty again. The breeze of autumn. The hot of summer. My blood on the rocks. The wound tender in infection. The scar I touch like a feather.

We are made in God’s knowing of ephemera, ever changing, ever fleeting. Undefined, and ephemeral forever, ever and ever.
Ruheen Sep 2019
Permanent scars

Temporary hope

Temporarily permanent life

Nonexistent, really.
...do you get it?
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