The Drawing of Circles
It lingers without trace, and for evidence we seek
Long away from eyes prying
Further off the path from crashers feet
To this place of solitude
To this place promised to let one be free
This state that borders euphoria
That questions all we'd once believed
Is it love?
Is it life?
Is it friendship?
Is it to drain exhale complete?
Is it freedom?
Is it quiet?
Is it a place of retreat?
Lingers if sobering into the withdrawl of sleep
That escapes nuances of time and the desires of others needs
And so beyond we cast search
Beyond the flecks of faultering gold we see
In hopes to come full circle
In hopes to find true peace.
Copyright © Bianca Jones