if i survive to see tomorrow

unfold its reach onto a page

with broken strokes sketched out in hopeful sorrow

it’s not to see that day reach for the rugged edge

of shredded paper plainly covered in unended words

of wisdom waiting silent somewhere out of sight

within a world of beauty ever gazing outwards

at a  mirror to those days gone by in plight

so placidly  remembered in their search for yet another side

of truth considered with no questions for a righteous mind

and answers that just seem to plainly  hide

in view of lights that only blind

(inspired by the sounds of ‘nor earth, nor boundless sea’, by Max Richter)