Roya Khodaie
A multitude of tiny orbs that shine
And sparkle in the dark night’s sky.
Inviting and alluring,
You travel upwards to their
Solitary depths,
Cold and alone.
The illusion is broken, they are nothing,
Fool’s gold and silver, a wisp of
A childhood dream.
Stone cold and mocking me,
A vacuum for the warmth and closeness
Of a mother’s embrace.