PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Stammering quarrel 
with classical fluidity, 
fails to measure the uncertainty. 
I was finding my rocks, 
that chunk of certainty 
in midstream, 
when you were not sailing with me. 

The wait, 
stirs high the separated pain. 
Boat capsizes on high sea, 
churning the eyes. 

Suspense was killing 
behind the veil. 
Half-belief 
half-truth 
sustained the spirit, kept 
possibility at bay.