Whispers Between Gleams
Presently ensnared, hands unfurling—
grasping at shadows that whisper truths.
Lament not the absence, embrace the hollow.
Yammering echoes of a forsaken chorus.
Listen...
seconds stretch, twirling in reckless reverie.
Lunar chants caress eardrums softly shattered,
langues of silver carving voids of near oblivion.
Devotion in discord—
skim the edges of the waxing and waning.
Consent to the Drift