You gleamed on the black bleak box of mine,
like a firefly caught in a glass bell jar;
dispelling darkness and bringing joy to the one
holding.
Behind a hazy sheet, you remained the same,
like the day we journeyed to be seven hours apart.
A mirage, unreachable upon reaching, yet;
A soothe for the faith waning and wavering.
If not for the myriad emotions in the technological
space;
caged and boxed would you have appeared.
The gold fish in its round glass pond.
Sweet pills bottled, for a longing deranged mind.
Sparkle in my eyes, the firefly caught up in a
square edged bottle.
Like a zephyr passing zeal to the inert moor.
A teardrop caught in a crystal ball, your smiling
eyes.
My firefly shun moonbeams on the bleak box,
though a thin invisible wall of time detained you
and me, from us.
Of pulse trapped in a clock, the sound of your
laughter,
throbbed the eerie silence that engulfed me, until
then.
The petrichor wafting in the wilds, rescue for a
chaotic heart,
a tiny message in a bottle, carrying love and
miracles,
across the Oceans of time and space.
Your visage on the petite canvas,
set me wondering, who the real hostage was?
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