An instant is quick as the blink of an eye,
As fleeting as a gentle wind's breath,
As swift as the flight of birds that fly
Yet tragic as the call of sudden death.
With some kind of cruelty in its speed,
An instant comes without invitation,
Like a thief that does its merciless deed
An instant negates any choice or decision.
Its passing can leave one with sheer numbness,
Like a shift between realms of reality.
Its a door that shuts with such quickness
An instant comes and goes with finality.
Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~11.21.15
Photo: Independent Thinkers Lounge Digital Ar
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem