Alt+F4

Delight and mud entangle;
a soft and lucid embrace.
Where holes string sorrow,
I dwell on the edges,
Of sin and grace.
Ask and thou shalt receive,
But believe not that it comes cheap.
None has your eyes.

Gulfs of salt and tears.
They run on the inside.
None bears your stride.

Fear shadows peace.
Smiles hide the pieces scattered within.
Ctrl takes place
While
the joke goes on.
Son,
make haste,
while eyes still linger,
a little longer
and
before a final slumber.

Remember,

you are not you.

Not yet.

Advertisements

Share your thoughts

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s