Fabled Zilch

Path

So many words, unheard,

Talk to you.

Listen,

Or move on

With a smile

Like nothing happened.

Your tomorrow is like

A burning Sun,

You feel the heat.

It’s creepy from this point,

But wait,

It’s not dark.

You buy hopes,

Not arty candles.

You buy organic hopes

That burn

And make a thousand Suns,

Gusting up the radiance.

So many words, untouched,

Hide inside,

Like mystery unsolved.

Tomorrow

Was never here,

Tomorrow is awake,

In daydreams.

Tomorrow is not

Buried unutilized

In droplets of obscurity.

Tomorrow is the reward

To the words.

Tomorrow hides

On your path ahead.

Listen,

Or move on

With a smile.

That inkling

Was a fabled zilch.

 

 

 

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