Inspired By: Porter Robinson, Kings Kaleidoscope, Jesus
It's strange
Looking back now I can
hardly remember your face;
even as the memories replay.
Another thing fallen beneath
the murky waters
into the cloud of memories
I'd rather not have.
I saw a picture
of you yesterday.
One that I had taken.
It felt surreal
to see something I know
I captured with my eyes
yet had so quickly pushed
deep, deep below.
Even in the eve of calamity
when the world was about to cave in
there was such a sparkle in your eyes.
When did the rainbow fade?
And what was every shimmer after it?
A rediscovery of truth?
A lie in want of it?
Or simply what you felt you
should have done
in the moment.
Not that it will help, after all.
I was looking through my dusty recollections
and in the wake of collapse
I relished in the split
I gazed down at you with a grin
(yet a tear sparkling in my eye).
Yet as I look at the
flowers and the birds of the field
and off into the infinite horizons
they shape my nowadays
where I find myself
wishing you well