Sonder. n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.
Our lives are not our own
Grown from sticks and stones
Clones of rhythm and rhyme
Time. Space with grace, elegant lace, lined with silver, encased
in gold, then sold over and over until it all unfolds.
Back to the future, unbreaking the mould, undoing the told that perpetuates our souls.
Cloaked in fear, we revere those that steer the ships that dock
but never flock, those that sail to no avail,
those that hear the tears, feel the smiles that travel miles,
for that day, that restless day, from away to stay, they lay,
lifeless, still, ill, from the pill, until, they resurrect.
Rewild into the depths of mind, blind, they lust for a love unbound.
Unfound and unforgotten, not lost just tossed, his trash, her cash, from his coins, for her loins,
the cycle ebbs and flows, grows a life who knows, nothing and everything.
A truth untold, a fiction bold, to masses sold, this hot and cold, history.
Peace and war, His store, death’s door, never ends,
multi lens, multiverse, last to first, stuck in reverse.
I am yours and you are mine, and so we’ll shine,
for the stars to dine, for the moon’s signs, for the sun’s shrine,
we’ll die to live and live to die,
lovers aligned just in time,
together passing by,
shooting stars in the sky.