By: Kosative D.
Across an alleyway,
beyond a desert’s trove.
Beneath a skyway
or an existential grove.
That frail line that keeps us all at bay.
The shield that guides the mere night from day.
It’s half of its center,
but plain to what’s not.
For nothing dare enter
its hinges forgot.
However so blightly as the winds flow past--
I’ll forget it’s transgressions whilst the memories last.
Like a slithy swift harpoon,
Slitting the throat of a half crest moon.
The horizon line dances its duel.
A paradox to forever, but used as fuel.
For the shadows keep the sunlight at bay.
Punishing harshly to tame the day.
And as for the twisted delight, the horizon line shattered!
Drawing everyone closer to what actually mattered.