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Under a Moonlit Sky, There Are No Vows Too Great
Prose Poetry
Kiss away the time while you can. Don’t live in these self-made boxes that society tells you we must all be smashed into, trying to fit in all the wrong spaces. What can we do but try to go forward in style while we still can?
Breathe in, breathe out, and drink up the ocean air. The salt tang of it reminds you of picture-perfect memories that seem more like dreams than anything that was once reality. Peppered in your thoughts are those moonlit nights against the backdrop of the sea. Oh, how you dreamed then. Why did the truth have to unravel the kind deceptions?
Tell your story to the waves. If there are gods up above, then maybe they’ll hear your sad song on the wind. Your sorrow could be a storm in the making.
Vows are supposed to last a lifetime, and some might even argue they persist after death. You accepted the vows, once, and thought they would define you for all of time. The ring exchange was just a symbol for all the promises to come.
But time snapped short like a rubber band broken from too much tension. A half-life, that’s what it became. The story is as old as time, but you never thought it would be your story.
Those vows? What are they now but dust? Or sand to collect at the ocean’s bottom? You can…
