Abiotic - Devoid of Life
By rob_brill
Mon, 13 Sep 2004
- 594 reads
I sit
I listen
I wait
The soft, delicate rays of life
Gently beat their feet
Warming my raw cheeks
But its power is weak
What am I waiting for?
A spark
A rustle
A beat
Yet still no life comes form the
Torn tendons of desire that
Lay dormant at the very epicentre of my soul
A shudder, a brief awakening would
Bring some hope
Nothing: reality cruelly consumes the young
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