Loss

For this weeks PT idea (dropping a line; choose a line from a poem by some one else and use it in a poem of your own), I chose our grey glacier awaits from Scotty - The Frog Prince. Thank you Scotty.

our grey glacier awaits
a ceaseless decline
of what we thought
our ennobled merit

a sudden fear for escape
in memory and reflection

for all the intricate build-up details
of whom we became
lie prominently in the past

where we no longer get to rejoice
at times of reminiscence

but now reside
in seemingly perfect peace

unaware of future truth
and present gliding loss