Taking a piece off the table
Savoring its beauty
Was it mine from the beginning
Or was it just something that was meant to be left behind
Would someone come back for it
Never seemed that important
I’d be thankful if it were mine
Does it perfectly describe my tone
Hanging by that one line
Engraved with the tales of age
Keeping it would make no difference to the place where it laid
Whispers of “No puedes” circling what remains
A thing of such amazing composition and structure
It leaves it’s everlasting presence on my hands
It built a certain serenity during its stay
Disturbing its peace may be a corruption I put in place
No point to dare myself
Why won’t my soul let me leave it here
If I can’t have it
No one will or should have the pleasure of keeping it
The convenience of the deep shadow
My reach couldn’t grasp the bottom
It deserves to be free from the hands of those who pass it
My steps bring the ground’s indent near
Caress the line and stone once more
Taking in one last breath of it’s beauty
As it slips away there is still such grace
It falls and I watch until there is nothing left to see
It’s in the state where it first began
Instead it now lays undisturbed, treasured
If I can’t have it or they
Let it be from us a gift for the abyss.
Moe