Ephemeral
Oct 10, 2026
— by Biba. Sept 13, 2026
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It doesn’t last.
The fingers entangle the passing moment of life, within this grip it gets to stay for a while, then it drips away so fast, it doesn’t last.
It doesn’t last.
a fleeting wave of pastel shades leave glimpses of relief, then the blindness returns leaving me in disbelief, as it faded away in the past, it doesn’t last.
It doesn’t last.
Just a minute of restored hopes begin to braid newer dreams, but a few seconds tear off what only seems, as if a cursing spell has been cast, it doesn’t last.
