Paris: A Desolate Eden

It was warm and I was unafraid
For the next few days were written in stone and the sun shone its warmth upon me
Time was still and it was beautiful
A dance of colors presenting themselves to me as I dreamt of soft delicacies;
Awake, the earth was present and grounding,
The buildings tall and embracing.
The nature fragile yet secure reflecting its qualities upon me:
I was fragile and secure

But time doesn’t last and moments pass
The young seedlings grow as will I
Structures crumble as do I
Don’t reject the hold vines have on you; they are there to save you
But we cannot all be saved
Tragedy happens and suddenly not all moments were written in stone
Heartbreak and the essence of the past there to hurt us;
Hurt me.
Fear and the unknowing leap of the future there to plague us;
Plague me.

There are few times I am present in a moment
I only reflect and consequently, my feelings are lost
And I am left with nothing
Nothing but a vast collection of memories, wishes, and hopes
The memories grey and fading
The wishes and hopes sent to death by my lack of hospitality for the future

Here I am stunned:
Unable to act
Unwilling to interact
Inhaling and Floating
Waiting for a gust of wind to help me return home
But I cannot be helped
For help is unlikely to aid my qualm with the world and myself

And hence my home forever expects me and I await it.
Never to meet
No gust of wind
No warmth and No future
I stand here afraid and cold.