To see the mighty skies through the translucence of one modest marble
Held firmly betwixt trembling fingers caked with dirt
A bottled shrine of fearful ambitions lest they recline in labyrinthine alleys of the night
Sparkle of glinting gold, that courts the startling charisma of hope…
Will it fade as fleeting dreams of impecunious lives?
Or will an epitaph be etched in ink of everlasting glory?
(Its been more than a year. Missed writing. A very happy new year to all my friends here in wonderful blogland.)