The Epoch of Your Mourning

A
forest crescent overshadows oblivion.
I forgot to breathe when you crossed meridian,
Since the zephyr hurt my chances getting parallel with you.

Evening met mourning—shattering the peace.
Mountaintops drip snowy dew on hiking boot lace.
Voices echo your name at cedar’s peak.
I know how you live: “hard to get, hard to chase,”
But running is exhausting for your daily intake.
So I hope you decide to come back home safe
Before winter wakes—piece by piece.
I laid my love to rest where a creek cries death.
My feelings have evolved into redwood brick.
Owls hoot a yearning for summer’s woven nest.
I’d climb the tallest tree to see you again, quick.
Watching your varnished eyes open the next sunrise finesse,
As the clouds pave way, forming a delusional mess,
You wear your honesty thick—deliberately expressed.
Boulders may fall—but I am never bound to break
Or give up on finding your true whereabouts.
Thousands of miles, I’ll travel, if that’s what it takes
And swim the arctic sea until my feet lose doubt.
The odyssey ahead seems like an rugged route.
You think I won’t spot you, but I’m a determined scout.
Together, we can work this out—mend the heartache.

When I discover you finally, I hold you close.
I respire regret and you unearth your ghosts
Hence, we unravel the bandages once covered in soot.

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