If only I saw all of
This as gold and caught
Its light in any minute
Darn pointless, futile, just no
Use! I watch each drop
Diffuse on crimson velvet
Before I found a hold or
Could do any more
(Begrudgingly) about it
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You see, here you'll find poems and prose of opportunity and seasons. They're ours, though, so we have to protect them. Respect! Thank you!
Readers are welcome! If you are willing to follow the iconian path, you should know that it is always you we are talking to, even if it is not. And that everything is true, even if it is not. We all are eternally united in the last space possible where even the impossible is real. We ought to believe the foretold: If we'll meet tomorrow, next year, or never, it doesn't matter, it's only time! And everything, even time is fiction.
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