Always rose coloured.
There was a moment,
fleeting, brief, hazy,
eyes closed,
and you were there.
There was a moment,
of credible confusion,
when you slipped into
your darkest place, doubts tavern.
There was a moment,
in an instants pulse,
when these eyes opened,
not a trace of your apparition remained.
There was a moment,
of certitude in truths,
where empathy ceased,
aspirations shuttered tight.
There was a moment,
where it seemed possible,
where all would be honourable,
then hollow, sudden halting, no moments pursuant.
There was a moment,
where doubt trumped hope,
blessedly, meddling desire intervened,
accompanied by passions indelible truth.
There was cautious optimism.
Acceptance in whatever would,
whatever could, come to pass
or extinguish, dematerialising or alight.
| sub-Textural |
Original writing, sub-Textural.