A mind lost in spirals
Yet four cardinals stick out amongst the tendrils
Grasping for direction
North, North is the way to go
Searching for a place free of sorrows infection
For surely such a place there must be
Free of fog that slows the thoughts
Preventing me of what I’ve sought
That sun of joy that fell from the sky
As those below pleaded their cries
But to the North only waits the biting cold
So South must be the way
But to my dismay
What only lays is a scorching horrid land
So off I trek in my defiant torpid stand
To the Eastern corner far
But all that meets my gaze is a sea of wretched tar
So to my only hope, I walk
Dejected
My mind now a heaving wreckage
To the West, the fallen sun must rest
And sure enough, the dormant star sits
All across its surface, life itself is writ
So for a time I simply stare
Caught in a sublime snare
Yet one
I never wish to leave
#Fallen Sun
sage marten
@boreal raft
sage marten
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boreal raft
regal locust