By Sunder
I always remembered that one late afternoon,
It lasted forever, ending only too soon.
You were staring at the sky, looking at the clouds,
Contemplating whether or not to hear my sound.
You whimpered,
I shed a tear.
You see me,
I was always here.
Like looking at a mirror, we both had wide eyes,
Young and bold, but equally shy,
We had a chance to introduce ourselves, memory I still hold,
It struck me when we didn’t, it hurt tenfold.
Like looking at a mirror, a time portal—
Our past, our present, a story not yet told
our relations to this mortal world melded with mold,
from the blazing illusion on the mourning of old.
If I could see what was once our future,
I would do so, for us to nurture.
Knowing that everyone—every single one’s culture,
is just that of a twisted, dark pasture.
Moving everything between what seems like confusion,
In this never-ending world of uncandid disseise,
I see none—not anything. I have lost vision.
Of our utopia—of comfort—what was once my mission.
You disappear in the world when no one notices me missing.
Imposter syndrome? I *rightfully* feel this way.
Rainbow to monochrome, disappears with snake-like hissing—
Shattered and scattered until you fade away.