A poem about: The Vanishing NowI stand upon the…

The Vanishing NowI stand upon the razor’s thread,Between what’s gone and what’s unsaid.The past dissolves in silver mist,The future whispers—half dismissed.I reach—too late—its embers fade,A ghost of light, a fleeting shade.The now is neither here nor there,A phantom breath, a vacant stare.Each second born is one that fades,A spark consumed in time’s cascades.A golden breath, a fleeting glow,Dissolving ere it fully shows.I cup my hands, I beg it—stay!But time just laughs and slips away.What is the present but a doorThat never opens—evermore?Like waves that kiss the silent shore,Each crest is gone before it’s known.The tide arrives, the tide has passed,And I remain—yet hold no past.The future leans with burning eyes,But even now, it twists, it flies—A breath, a spark, a silent vow,Forever lost in the vanishing now.Make it better and perfect.

On the razor's thread, I stand,
Between the vanished and the unspanned.
The past dissolves to silver mist,
The future whispers, soft and wist.

I reach—too late—the embers dim,
A ghostly light on time's cruel whim.
The present, neither here nor there,
A phantom breath, a vacant stare.

Each second born is one that fades,
A spark consumed in time's cascades.
A golden breath, a fleeting gleam,
Dissolving ere it forms a dream.

I cup my hands and beg it—stay!
But time just laughs, then slips away.
What is the present but a door
That never opens, evermore?

Like waves that kiss the silent shore,
Each crest is gone before it's known.
The tide arrives, the tide has flown,
And I remain with none to own.

The future leans with burning eyes,
Yet even now, it twists and flies—
A breath, a spark, a solemn vow,
Forever lost in the vanishing now.

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On the razor's thread, I stand, Between the vanished and the unspanned. The past dissolves to silver mist, The future whispers, soft and wist. I reach—too late—the embers dim, A ghostly light on time's cruel whim. The present, neither here nor there, A phantom breath, a vacant stare. Each second born is one that fades, A spark consumed in time's cascades. A golden breath, a fleeting gleam, Dissolving ere it forms a dream. I cup my hands and beg it—stay! But time just laughs, then slips away. What is the present but a door That never opens, evermore? Like waves that kiss the silent shore, Each crest is gone before it's known. The tide arrives, the tide has flown, And I remain with none to own. The future leans with burning eyes, Yet even now, it twists and flies— A breath, a spark, a solemn vow, Forever lost in the vanishing now.