Listen to poem:
Threads of Lost Kindness - Mystic -
Written: October 3rd, 2025, for contest sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
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Watch the aureate thread of certainty
unravel before you know what kindness is—
evolving into nebulous dusk.
Deprivation of appetency becomes truth,
like mist rising from a lake at twilight.
See your lavishness mirrored
in a shattered glass of despair.
What you grasp with aquiline vanity,
what you assess over ductile hours,
must succumb to the flow of time.
Feel the agony of unwillingness—
a cosmic silence spanning
the vestiges of kindness.
Ride through days of labyrinthine pain,
trusting there is no end in sight,
as travelers with casual yearning
stare into the empyreal void,
Their hopes wrecked, survival unfulfilled.
To grasp the sacredness of kindness,
You must linger where the outsider sleeps
beneath a starry sky,
The air cavorting with memory.
His goals droop like asteria flowers,
folded into the flaps of his lost coat.
Consider how this could be you—
He, too, brimmed with optimism,
He, too, carried a flare of efflorescence
through the riparian dark.
Before you realize the full scope of kindness,
speak to sorrow until your voice turns hollow.
Hold the mourning cloth—
Its weave amalgamated, its weight elegant.
Then, only kindness remains significant.
It is kindness that laces your shoes,
that urges you to witness dawn’s ruby crust.
Kindness rises from the throng and says:
I am what you’ve been seeking.
And I walk beside you—
like a panacea,
like an astringent,
like a friend.
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