Musings and poetry written by a jester on their off days. Pfp Source: Konturiev Vaycheslav, "Sad Clown".
1 post
Distance
Each night,
I whisper your name to the stars,
And wonder if my voice will ever reach you.
I find comfort in their light, yet...
Those bright orbs of fire,
They're already gone, aren't they?
By the time they reach my eyes,
They've long since burned out.
Our distance is formidable,
Marked by space and time.
The theory of relativity,
Energy, mass, and the speed of light.
How much will change within me
Until I can hold your hands in mine?
Will our crossed stars burn out?
Or will they collide?
A supernovae,
A black hole,
A neutron star.
I ask the stars,
"How much hope is there
For a love like ours?"
But they're long since gone.
My nightly soliloquy: audience of one.