martes, 9 de enero de 2024

#34. FOLLY

Chris Candidovsky

 

Taciturn firefly, under the gray quilt of the firmament,

Alone on her journey, with no moon or stars to guide her.

With vain longing, and more sorrow than joy,

She stirs reasons to exist,

Even in the midst of blind darkness,

The fog is thicker than night.

The firefly would turn, but she has already forgotten her home,

Grief envelops it, like a vision in mourning.

The light abandons it, and with it all its folly.

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