Where Time Cannot Touch You

We are each a self-fulfilling prophecy
Of undefined heart-beats and thoughts,
Whispered melodies
Sung by the subconscious
As we crest a wave of sleep,
Snatched cruelly awake
By our own frost-bitten fingers,
Aching desperately to close around
That absolving heat,
But unaware through the numbness
Of just when it is that we are holding
The thing we desire most,
And when it has been lost,
Dropped into that black mouth of
Dreams and memories,
Where youth and age are forever ours,
Tools to make our lives with.

Where Time Cannot Touch You

PensivePenguin

Hamilton, Australia

  • Artist
    Notes
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