The Waiting Sped Up The Weariness Of Patience

The waiting sped up the weariness of patience
Upon that lonely shore so heavily boulder
To as far off as the eye could see
I watched there afar where the ocean seemed to meet the firmament
What appeared to be swallows swaying
Above the white crests, intimately, mocking my loneliness

I’ve walked the subways at night
Hoping to come to your encounter
Then I heard you prospected for new lands
Where you and your lover shall dwell
Even the memories we made do not seem to bother you
But I would’ve appreciated the incisive truth

Now there’s nothing there that is left to say
Just that I have to summon the pieces of my heart
For there’s no proper way of letting go
So there’s nothing there that is left to say
Only that my heart must learn to subside

by Stella Sisanda Qishi

Comments (1)

They are very fine verses, steeped in melancholy, but also open to sentiment and hope. The elaboration of a nostalgia.