On What We May Or May Not Ever Know

Who can tell if it is love we've found, or just another hypothesis waiting to be found by someone else.

I found this piece of glowing air,
I guess that it's been left behind.
I can't tell if it's really there
Or if it's only in my mind.

I would suppose it's only fair

If I just took it home as mine.

 

This throbbing shape of nothingness

Seems lesser in its size to me

Or, maybe while becoming less,

Condensing towards solidity.

I can't be truly sure though, lest

I name it what it could not be. 

 

It could be warm it could be cold,

It could be lost and very old,

It could be wandering forever,

Broken free from bonds and tether,

Shattered many ages prior,

Or spurned in licking tongues of fire,

What if this were holy stuff?

My sinful hands aren't apt enough.

This manifest hypothesis

Has made me far too curious

But dare I pry more thouroughly?

It could be scared so easily.

It could belong to bolder men

Whose will can form it back again,

Or maybe I can do such deeds

Maybe that's just what it needs.

Either that, or leave it be.

I wish that it could speak to me...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Insane duckling]

You never cease to amaze me.