Goblet of Youth

Time slips through my fingers like water

before I get a chance to drink it in.

Just as droplets jump with frenzied desperation 

from the edge of a table-top,

Salty tears splatter in untiring array 

as I try to refill the spilt goblet of youth.

I crave for my cracked lips 

to be bathed in the tranquil azure of possibilities

that rise like steam before lazy, overslept eyes.

For the saline potion to bring me back

like a jolt from a dream

to the words unspoken,

the mist veiled paths unexplored,

the hand which never learned to yearn

the lingering ghost of my fingers.

Reviews

[Rynn]

Excellent imagery! I love the stanza,

"I crave for my cracked lips
to be bathed in the tranquil azure of possibilities
that rise like steam before lazy, overslept eyes."

This was just so beautiful, and what's more - it was very real to me. I didn't just read, or understand - I felt. Thank you for the awesome read

[Ling Wawa]

Thanks so much!