As Time Stood Still

~inspired by a chance meeting~

It comes at the whim of chance,

Seeking those with blind eyes,

And despaired hearts,

Promising them the unfulfilled promise,

Of perfection.

It catches you in the rarest of moments,

In your hour of tragedy,

Like a twinkle of a bright star amidst the night's taunt,

It is often missed.

But if its fleeting presence is held on to,

That star bursts,

Into a thousand wishes come true,

And you are left in its magic,

So true, the ticking hand stands still,

Time and reality lay humble to its power.

Your past, present and future,

All succumb to a mere possibility,

Of forever within a moment.

Like a flaming arrow,

Straight through your eyes,

Past your soul and into your heart,

It sets you ablaze,

Outshining the everlasting sun.

It shamelessly dances across your dull horizon,

Erasing clouds of regret and shame,

Leaving nothing but vulnerability.

It sings to you a song of hope,

Sparking within you,

An unfamiliar bravery to finish its words.

And in all of this,

You are buried in unearthed feelings,

As you find yourself floating,

You are safe in the arms of love.

It leaves you at the whim of chance,

With you unknowing,

And all that is left,

Is the memory of a perfect picture,

That you grip closely,

As you lay suspended in time.

You are left knowing,

You have found perfection in love.

-by Isaac H. George

The Masked Man

(Copyrighted Material)