Thought #08

Yet another day and dew drops on our cozy bed slumber but she..

Of Age | A Found Poetry

Eyes; weakening the truth Suffering; smiled his face Ample; answer to my question contained Purpose; permanently left


Who am I No longer I exist No body Not this mind Another possession Another I Another breath Paralyzed Another day I atrophy Fossilize Dust my soul In your remains I exist Infinite Impotent As the void In you seek To find me Shall find yourself