Disclaimer: I do not own any copyright to "Lost." This is simply an appreciative fan's contribution. No money is being made.
Lost
By Sindie
Barely audible echoes from times past and future
Steal
across tiny pockets of emptiness,
Whispers that tingle the back of
your neck
Like the palm branches you duck and dodge.
Mystery
builds upon itself with every relative second
That passes away
among smokiness and heavy, sporadic rains,
And the more you may be
lost, all the more the purpose reveals
In a slow, forward-backward
unraveling of Fate's tapestry.
This record may very well wear
itself thin, broken as it is -
Or was or will be - as every
uncertainty becomes a variable fact.