Vague

Something evaporated yesterday
right here, in front of my eyes;
I think they were thoughts.

I want to close the new world and find the old me,
who could see, feel, breathe.

I want to write,
or at least find my pen.

Again. Another beginning.

Numb

On the pages of time these lines will fade
And so will you and i.

This pain has burned up a part of my heart --
In the wind of time its ashes will blow away.

The frailty of words has numbed my trust in them --
In the story of time it'll hopefully restore.

And, perhaps, so will you and i.