Broken Into Dust

Is it easy to reclaim something you've lost?

And now we collapse

submerging into dust

too loose to grasp

shininess turned to rust.

What has been left behind?

Is it foolish to be hopeful,

we might turn back and rewind,

to before we were broken.

I'll try not to mourn

for the loss of certainty,

for making you so unsure,

and for driving you away.

You might not see it anymore,

the vision we once had,

wrapped in a flickering glow,

an escape when it got bad.

But I still see it glimmer,

tucked away beyond sight,

not completely extinguished,

but just barely a whisper.

In time, I hope it will grow.

That the dust will settle,

and we can start anew.

Create something better.