Neptune Wistful Moan
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Written: August 13, 2023
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When Neptune nostalgic—sighs
Weave ruffled rosaries of brocade ink,
Bleeding from blackberry wrinkles,
In torrential time cascading link.
I wonder if herculean eyes
Of my ear, then my heart,
Are afraid of being abandoned,
By electric Rhapsody of art.
Life's alienated graphics,
A kaleidoscope of vibrant hues,
But will they turn their back on me?
When are Neptune nostalgic blues?
The ocean depths hold secrets untold.
Where Neptune nostalgic sighs unfold.
In ripples and waves, they dance and sway.
Whispering tales of a forgotten day
I gaze upon the ink-stained sky.
As brocade rosaries gently fly.
Each bead is a memory, a burden, a dream,
A tapestry of life's intricate scheme.
But amidst the beauty—a shadow looms.
Fear of abandonment such as impending doom.
Will the herculean eyes, so strong and wise,
Be left alone—with tears in disguise?
Or will the electric rhapsody of life
Embrace and hold them, banishing strife?
In this world of alienated graphics,
Where connections are made through digital antics,
I long for the touch of a hand, a gracious word,
To remind me, I'm not alone in this absurd
The existence we call life—where we seek
Meaning and love while feeling so weak.
Neptune sighs telling us of beauty to find.
In the depths of our innate souls,
In the stories that induce us whole.
Let us look with our hearts, not behind.
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