The Crossing

Standard

I gaze at footsteps

trek against nature —

an unconceived journey

 

further away, he treads

as the trail elongates

into a place without me

 

my breath becomes shallow

short and desperate

darting on grounds unpaved

 

arm grows numb

reaching in distance,

a deserting love

 

the kind with conditions,

never knowing the forever

that exists in the fight

 

now, I stand alone

on this barren path

with hopeless dreams

 

unfamiliar and cold–

I search for my way home

cautiously peering.. 

 

Where am I?

 

© 2013 Liza Morales

Image

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s