I will know you through
the eternal "why"
And un-know the face you
used to show
During our breaks,
A matter of
"how", before you fly.
Stepping in your traces,
following your footsteps in the snow
I couldn't help but to
think I, too, have the honor
of staying upon the
shoulders of a giant, a hero.
Shying away, misspelling
words, confusing which and whoms
and other mumblings are
mere fumes,
Comparing to the weight
of your thoughts,
imprinted on the
intellect of a mere strain in the Universe.
Mind making up words,
they float adrift in front of my screen
They would not be seen
otherwise, but this is akin
To a shadow looming
above me, telling me to stop.
There is no coherence,
no grammar in feeling, idiot!
Nor science nor law
could explain the evenings
when I would drown my
sorrows in thought
with the clock ticking,
a disaster sought
In your cosmos.
I hide you in the lines
of my poems
Embrace you with
reverence
But utterances betray
the fascination
With your Prometheus
essence.
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