Floating Above, Waiting


Waiting for death to pass by.
Look at the moon.
Look at the stars.
Look at Venus.
Look at mars.

Waiting for your return.
Look at your hands.
Look at the mirror.
Look at your face.
Look at your prior.

Waiting for love.
Look at others.
Look at her.
Look at him.
Look at the world.

In waiting, he stood there. Symmetrically he aligned himself to the world, and not even the world would care. Not even the world would dare. Where?

Floating above us all.

He will wait. Watch his watch ticking in the wake, of time moving though measured by twisting stakes. We should have never tried for our own dear sake. We cannot measure how many drops there are in a lake.

Floating above us all.

He watches us, and sees. He hopes for the best, tries, and believes. He wants to show us what we need. But we’re simply engulfed in our own selfish deeds.

Floating above us all.

Walking for days around the world. Tempted to speak, but he must remain silent to the world. Theories cannot be tampered with for if they were to figure out that what is straight is curved, and what is sane is absurd, then it will end the existence of such a world. And he will remain unheard.

Floating above us all, he waits for the love to pass and return to him.
Floating above it all.


2 thoughts on “Floating Above, Waiting

  1. Kristin Brænne says:


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