picking up, slivers of life, hewn into flesh,
leaving once again, clinging onto moonbeams, shards of sunlight once dazzling and warm, thrashed by howling fate,
lost in echoes of yesterdays hope,
shuffling onward, one step at a time, seeking not much but enough, always enough,
between concrete hearts and steely grime,
seeking absolution, in penitence resigned,
to more scribbles,
more paltry rhyme … … …
'illusory art' by Maya
Scribbled Verse 