every step above
seems to be higher than the one
where the feet are grounded at present
filled with an aura of failure
but stinking of the hunger for success
desired but not deserved ─ perhaps
with every step the old world goes away
a new sky arrives
sprinkled with the same stars
from some known sky of the past
but again
the string snaps before it reaches the pitch
often wonder why
may be the steps ahead need no melody
just a crumbling sound of an avalanche
announcing their occurrence
haunting the tides of time