The Master of Shifting Sand

This topic was created in the Writing ✍️ forum by CreepyPants on Wednesday, January 25, 2012 and has 1 replies.
her voice echos into memory.
her words sear.
she crafts a heart deep into her palm.
and there it will wait blindly
ecstacy that may never come
she holds secretly tightly
a vessel molded of pain disguised as bliss.
"i am so sorry
it wasnt my plan
i was only born a master of shifting sand."
one day their history will be wiped by time.
worn and defeated
one day that heart will heal
and it will come back to her
forgetting the pain she caused
choosing to remember more beautiful times
conscious and profound
but she was only made to break ground
where even the strong may fall into her trap
the muse of great happenings
drawn into her gaping emotions
deep dark liquid pools of feeling
amidst a flora and fauna
of birth and regeneration
if you met a chance end
she holds a miraculous beginning
like the crux of this hemisphere
or the greatest summit
on the far side of this world
when so much seems senseless
you might wish for fate
but she will only ever initiate
in a million years
a few stars will align
and she will be present
in her unbridled ways
and oh once again
her coursing may never end