In nothingness
Dull silence cascades down the shoulders
Of weeping angels
And hollow sobs tiptoe
Over a vast rug
Not made by
But made of
Human limbs
In a treacherous weave
In a vacuum
Their tears hang mid-void
How tiresome is human life
They wail
And how grand their dreams
All for nothing
And all their schemes
Dust in the wind
Too great a price
For a choice
That does not exist


Arqum

26/1/2017

(13)

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