remained in the realm of potential.
A guardian of thresholds appeared —
not to warn, but to witness.
Some connections exist to awaken depth,
not to remain, not to be entangled
They leave in silence, without any noise
Leaning a mark of softness, not sorrow.
A soul once stirred by touchless grace,
Now drifts through stillness, not empty space.
No claim was made, no chains were tied,
Just presence felt, then brushed aside.
The guardian fades with knowing eyes,
A whisper between the earth and skies.
No farewell needed, no curtain drawn —
The lesson lives, though form is gone.
What was not meant to fully bloom,
Still filled the air with sacred perfume.
Some moments pass to shape the soul,
Not to complete, but to make whole.
No comments:
Post a Comment