Distance, A Mirage Of Peace Poem by Victoria Lin

From a star's view in remote land,
Adept for a creation of tranquility,
Perhaps an illusion so mere for the soul,
To abandon beliefs for dystopian mortality.

Foremost, it appears if eras shall bolt the illusion,
Leisurely filching the marrow of life, capability,
Of literate, for whom but of memories could rouse,
Possibly could set free o'er the acknowledged trial of poetry?

Many a epoch, the solitary arts exists of unrecognizable sprays,
Of dim black, weary yet drained, swathing the void white?
Conceivably of crimson, beseeching to forgive, yet innocent?
Yet the elixir of view will not rest, even in the shadow of sight.

Time alters all; no exception will ever be seen, yet
Various ones aren't as vacillating as those without recollection,
Before long, the breeze shall be carrying the cripple's ashes,
One concluding ceaseless peace, within thoughts of the Angel of perfection.