Flowers In Field Of Fate

Flowers In Field Of Fate
© Surazeus
2026 10 13

The faceless ghost of the person I love 
haunts my heart as the absence of their being 
because my brain with lonely ache projects 
idol of their essence in empty air 
so I seem to feel their presence still near 
when their shade picks flowers in field of fate. 

The apparition of their gleaming face 
remains unmoving in old photographs 
recording features of their transient being 
at fleeting moment in that bygone hour 
that we carelessly thought would never cease 
when their shade picks flowers in field of fate. 

The laughing specter of their vibrant soul, 
masked by play of their joyful character, 
seems to dance forever in movie reels 
preserving sport of their mischievous tricks 
that makes my heart ache with nostalgic pride 
when their shade picks flowers in field of fate. 

The writhing wraith of heartbreaking anguish, 
wounded by random pranks of tragedy, 
conceals harsh suffering that they endured 
in mute sorrow they tried to hide from me, 
tainting their spirit as much as their joy, 
when their shade picks flowers in field of fate. 

The traces of their existence remain 
as poignant scent of their long-vanished essence 
that lingers through electric flash of hope 
in eerie crackles after drenching rain 
that fools my heart to think I feel them close 
when their shade picks flowers in field of fate. 

The woeful phantom of my cherished one, 
too long abstracted from subjective scope 
of my oblivious mind in truant plight, 
lurks ever near antenna of my heart 
so I hear whisper of their thoughts in dream 
when their shade picks flowers in field of fate. 

The sudden spook of their revenant soul, 
which my brain conjures from lost memories, 
fools me to hope their consciousness remains 
in whole coherent frame of their true self, 
yet I know they have vanished from this world 
when their shade picks flowers in field of fate. 

The mindless shadow of the soul I love 
remains as bright illusion in my brain 
so they seem to live in my memories, 
still active in clear dramatic replay, 
though I will never see their face again 
when their shade picks flowers in field of fate.