Four Point Thirteen: Flickering Firefly
Lamp on a dreary night of a feverish vagrancy,
may I latch on you as if you're mine for free?
Perhaps I could say you're heaven-sent,
spare me from this abysmal moment
Deeply and darkly tinged I am blinded,
while the storms persist you're my warm bed
You might disappear along this dour weather,
but these are the times I promise to remember
We speak no words nor exchange glances,
I'm just sitting down here taking chances
and you're the light emanating above me,
my relief as though I'm not a forsaken plea
These are not coincidences I will reminisce,
but one with fated interventions I will miss
Flickering firefly clearing the hollow night,
of a swelling cold and hazy foresight,
would you still frequent my empty porch
and volunteer to be my lifelong torch?
-Nicola An
|