The Missing Piece Of Obscurity Poem by Amirmahdi Kariminejad

I used to think of a missing piece in life,
more like a person, existent,
but lost in time with no coordination.

I used to believe that my traveler in time
is yet to land on its destined heart
My heart.

I'd betray all souls, even the ones
patrolling the borders of my most fragile mind, keeping away from me all the harm
for the long-awaited to come.

I'd keep pushing hard and rough
guardian souls pulling me back gentle and soft: 'You shall not be done any harm.'

Coming of age, though, the prophecy
makes me wonder if there was none.
Possibly I might even deny,
for what is true tastes bitter in heart.