The Illusionist

I have watched you sleep
With your eyes wide open,
As I could see in them deep
A dream long forgotten.
I have seen you cry hard
From the corner of your lips,
When the waves took apart
The secret of unsailed ships.
I have heard your gasps
Which came along each nod,
Unable to dodge the rasps
They bore with the obvious flawed.
I have felt your cold hands
Under the summer leaves,
They spoke of distant lands
Where not a single soul grieves.

I have tried peeping into you
To find the mystery in your shrine,
But it was not to be, I knew,
The day you looked in mine.


Image by Stefan Keller


Published by A Hopeless Anachronism

Dancer | Reader | Writer | Traveller | Videographer | Researcher | Engineer

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