Sunday, May 04, 2008

Amid Midair

In spite, I move

Defying wearying disappointments, and dizzying distractions

Pain implores me stop, these aching heartbeats, but my feet feels no earth beneath

How can I stop in midair?

I move with unsatisfied love, unwelcomed, and lost

It is as smoke, teasing, it meanly swirls around my reaching grasp

Then whispers my name; my fate in foreign tongues, an empty fortune

This bate quietly calls my destiny

But how can I breathe in midair?

And where shall I land?