“the last breath”


As the winds of life,
My soul gently leads to its inner rest,
I cease not in this momemt of bliss,
For to rest would impede not thine own,
But that which is me,

And so my soul to the winds of change ignore,
For it knows none but its path to its eyes be glued,
In this vast abys yet everreadily sublime,
It chances not to forsake its heart,

And here at last it sees itself,
In that mystery of life soothingly pure,
It can nothing do but enshrine this cure,
In its inner quest to love undure,

This breath that once eluded its grasp,
Is yet so close to its yearning heart,
For in that one moment of glance,
The eternal sought has to it succumbed.

Advertisements

"the last breath"


As the winds of life,
My soul gently leads to its inner rest,
I cease not in this momemt of bliss,
For to rest would impede not thine own,
But that which is me,

And so my soul to the winds of change ignore,
For it knows none but its path to its eyes be glued,
In this vast abys yet everreadily sublime,
It chances not to forsake its heart,

And here at last it sees itself,
In that mystery of life soothingly pure,
It can nothing do but enshrine this cure,
In its inner quest to love undure,

This breath that once eluded its grasp,
Is yet so close to its yearning heart,
For in that one moment of glance,
The eternal sought has to it succumbed.