Writer's Tears

Inspiration came in a bottle of writers tears

as the night drew near

my vision became less clear

the sun sets over the horizon

with hues of pinks and blues

washing over the sky

fading into the burnt orange

I found solace

in these sunsets

where the ocean

swallows the warm light

and the moon rose behind

glowing translucent white.

In these moments I could breathe,

I could feel red blood pump through my veins

my heart beat in perfect time

I could close my eyes

yet, I never did

I lust to witness the natural beauty of this world

in all its perfect imperfections

Within exception

I’m nothing but a spectator

to the peonies that bloom outside my room

To the waves that crash on the distant shores of time

To the music that thrives from the rings of Saturn

Im nothing but a sightseer

romanticising the meaning of life

When there was never any meaning at all

Except to enjoy the simplicity of being alive

observing this world passing us by.