Ambition
Immeasurable, is that which
falls. Upon many a plane,
a grain of sand to represent,
what I never had but lost.
There is a shadow that forms,
The smoke around my head.
The absence of thought,
of word, try as it might.
For the hand I touch,
does not feel, does not tremble.
For the viscous haze I hold,
does not protect, does not soothe.
Invariable. It shall deign to be,
All that light cannot surpass.
A stream condensed, but still.
It will burst, and seep away,
lost.