Thursday, March 17, 2011

Untitled Poem # 4

The moon
Was reached
The mountains
Climbed
The sea
Crossed
In the end,
Produced a progeny
Of shallowness
Nothingness
Conquered
My being
My soul
Remained cold
And unmoving
Instead pain
Gnawed
I’m going back,
Back
To
My
Solitude…

1 comment:

  1. Hmm this has both a melancholy and slightly defiant quality to it. I even like the shape the words create. Very interesting....

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