dissatisfaction lingers,
dancing between us
it marks the growing distance
like particles of faded ink
on ancient maps,
luring us away from
the mystery.
We are blind explorers,
you and I,
stubborn and insistent on
trekking into the fullness
of our unhappiness,
our loss of lust and symmetry,
determined to find this
lowering of love
and the forgetting
of those tender groves
where once we found sweet, hungry life
and midnight hours anointed by discovery.
Such a pale sun rises
over this land
we forged from fire.
Cold shadows seep like wounds
eclipsing the dragon's breath
that was the soul of our world.
And yet, instead of pressing onward,
instead of searching deeper
we turn,
our backs becoming siblings
who push away
from each other,
from the uncharted heart
and begin the completion
of a journey towards
the edges of our ending.
© H. Newberry, 2016
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