Grey clouds called my name
upon the presence of the
blue moon. My dress had
embellished with life and death
had suffered from the cracks and
tears it received from this time.
I’m ready to give up my angel’s
wigs but have I yet come to see
the end myself? The soil feel
soft like my skin and my eyes
redden darker than the blood
in my body. Am I satisfied
with this perpetual departure?
I wished to see the others;
We all hoped for the holy grail,
but it can never just appear.
Impossible - still there is nothing
else to fear but fear itself..
What Einstein say? It’s what I
continue to say as acceptance
of leaving this world.... forever.
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PoetryThe new year may be here. But there are still things that can bring us to the past. A song, a favorite saying from a love one - anything. It doesn't matter what we do to make it great. There are still pieces that are needed to be attached. And in o...
