Distant lights form a hologram
Of people’s hearts. Four chambers
To pass through to reach Summer’s
Warmth. Messages sent by telegram.
Will they see it before today becomes yesterday?
Their pain stems from all the things they take.
Words from afar lack weight. For this I pay
With my tears, a most bitter brew to partake.
Still I remain like a lighthouse guiding those lost.
Breathe. You haven’t drowned in the waves tossed.
Vasha'Lakar 