Survival

it is always nice to know that how far is the island
of the thoughts of our lust and desire
no matter how endless the horizon is
no matter how moonless the sea could be at night at times
there is always someone whom you believe
to be thinking of you in the manner that the heart keeps beating
no matter what no matter harsh the now is

like the rays of the sun one morning when you stand still
facing the sea thinking of that someone
out there, out there, somewhere, you always remember

at night, on the darkness and the coldness of the room and the pavement
you look at the stars, and you feel

how distant memories can be, how tiny, how surreal....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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