Super Stitches

Either the sky’s the limit,

Or lies have spun on spindles,

Through countless fleeting years.

Charmed, indeed, I’m sure,

Or cursed by cracked mirrors,

Long feared to mar the pure.

Once, I witnessed peaks that soared,

In youth’s embrace, fatigued and worn,

Yet still bemoaned hunger’s grip.

In later years, love’s bliss unveiled,

Alpine lake witnesses vows that sailed,

Frozen frame, untouched by time’s cruel hands.