The image is taken from Google and edited.
I stare into the daylight
as the sun smiles glorious,
faint hope blooms to my delight.
I reach for the galaxy,
stretching to touch the starlight.
Clouds snowed on my fantasy,
turning me numb with frostbite.
It must be my delusion;
Life, I know is a tutor.
Yet remains the confusion.
So I ask, where lies future?
Trying out a new poetry style called the Ae Freislighe. (It's an Irish style of poetry.)