Above the abyss
Like a black knife through mist, carried without a sound.
It is not heaviness, but a weightless spreading
of soft feathers over invisible mountain peaks.
A watchful eye, not to neglect,
lest it stray from the path.
Every height knows its pull:
the abyss.
© E n i s ∞ r
song: All I Ever Am – The Cure
The glory of the past has vanished into the mists of the present.
Higher and higher until the sun breaks through.
