a world figuring out who I am

The images are lost,
A poor soul has gotten the best out of me,
Not the first time but certainly one of the best
First the idiot, liar and seizer
The traveler without remorse
And then the beauty, with a heart and
With parts of me that now belong to her
But recently the time,
The moment
A glimpse of happiness lost on a second
The unknown of the moment
The greatness of that time
All is lost.

From the mind of Cogliostro