Every thought spins in place
Trying to give meaning to this rat race
Wry smile tucked inside
How does one reconcile?
This life offers a mosaic
As I'm served black and white
Crippled to the soul
No one to share my despair
Twist in the wind of opportunity
Shed tears among loved ones
Scream at the deaf to reason
Plead to hearts of stone
Fight for favor of the divine
For the right to shine
Night shall turn into day
In time reality itself will fade away
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About the Creator
Gossamer
"Murray! Wake up!" He loved that period between waking and dreaming. To him, it was like entering another dimension; more of a dreamscape than dreaming itself. There was an otherness to it that he wanted to grasp and yet deeply respected the fact that it could never be his totally. This is what gossamer was; flighty and light, a wisp of smokiness, an idea suggested but not fully revealed, a slit in cloth, a copse in the wood.
By Rachel Deeming5 days ago in Fiction
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