Midnight

Your silence, your still, your chill are an estranged embrace.

By Vanta LuminaPublished about a year ago • 1 min read

Your silence, your still, your chill

Are an estranged embrace.

Welcoming, yet aloof.

Becoming, yet guarded.

Everything sleeps

And for a moment you grant me peace.

But not without the knowing

That this is not home.

Your light warms me while it haunts me -

Enough bright to offer a beacon

But at a distance I know is unreachable.

You tell me “Keep seeking, my child,

For this is not it.”

Oh, but I am warm… but for that permeating chill.

Just a student in the school of life. I live, I observe, I integrate.

Former pro bodybuilder. Fractional marketer. Reluctant optimist.

I write what I’ve lived - and what can no longer stay hidden.

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