A little there and a little not there,
It was never a promise,
Not the type of art one can bank upon.
An implausible justification of a clinging desire.
Yet, when I thought the fallacy has consumed me
It would come and kiss me.
Usher in a forgotten dawn.
And instruct the rusty bones to go out in the sun.
Greet a newspaper vendor by his name,
“Tell me what is new with the world?”

Albeit, you are not supposed to wait for it.
Remember how Gandalf always came unannounced?
It would wax and wane.
But you wouldn’t remember any longer,
What came before everything turned grey.
And when my poems turned into a ramble.
Were you a little there or never really there?
It has been long… I’ve faced the dawn.


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