narnia out here brooo
In shadows cast by age-old maps unrolled, Where light and memory conspire to flee, The Google pin descends—yet ironically, Its whispers lead to paths both strange and cold. Are we the transient dreamers, now grown bold? Our hearts wish for the truths that cannot be, As endless roads unveil odd sights; we see The ghosts of Vikings and their tales retold. Amongst odd doors adorned with fishy charms, Beneath where zebra stripes dance in the sun, We wander through a library of despair, And let our anger rise like roaring alarms. Each earthly find—a grandchild’s race begun,
Yet disappointment walks with us everywhere.
On distant shores where volcanoes sweat and sigh,
In life’s unforgiving game of chance we play,
Plunge deep into this sea of crisp regrets—
For every street corner still brings a goodbye,
As angels hover where wild dreams decay;
We share our burdens now in quiet sets.
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