by Koga Easter
In the solace of serendipity, fate flutters by giving no gentle sound, no warning in the night.
A blessing perchance to you by me, if it’s said nay, nay, this will never be.
My hollow ache to your aimless wanderlust, flutter by unseen in passing.
Unsightly in our plight by day and by night, gale winds never to meet.
never to cast the cacophony brought by way of the storm in unison.
But a distant dream, but a faint imagined memory, a wish wasted with the fools folly.
For all which could not have ever been.
Wilt, wallow, and despair for that which you may never know.