A tribute to the fleeting moments we share with strangers.
Unedited.
Weak, wasted, weary and in vain he waited for his fate
Tides came and cleared the shores, not his pain
Apparitions circled day and night, even the rocks pitied his plight
Trudging on an overgrown trail he stumbled, took a wrong turn
Behold! an angel, blinded by the sparkle of her eyes he stood transfixed
The ghosts fell on ground, the shimmer of hope overcame the anguish
He felt a beautiful pain in his chest, a pain worth bearing
The air cleared, no one but him, a fleeting illusion or a divine presence
his head aching from perplexion.
He flew to the wrong turn every dawn
the demons never came back, but the pain did
right under that tree, the only witness
to the miracle he wished for everyday.
