Sunday, November 27, 2005

Epiloge: Eon Apocalypse

with the srpeading out of the sun
obscured eyes reach out for the rays
the moments of tedium fade
dilluted phrases peak out of people's lips
thunder crashes
a small thanks
a dead land

broken, weary, and floating
in transmigration,
fear the unknown,
test the damp water
and go on.




in the abyss, that goes on
a molecular mile to reach out
grab a hand
and let the end come for an eternity.


right here, give blood,
and keep nothing safe.

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