The Empty Poem by Beating Tree
The Empty
The wind is my death, yes I’m going to die in the sky.
The ocean is my soul, yes I’m going to drift in the waves.
The land is my body, yes I’m going to crumble in the mountains.
The wind is my star, yes I’m going to shine in space.
The ocean is my fire, yes I’m going to burn in water.
The land is my breath, yes I’m going to breath in dirt.
The empty is what I’m going to forever miss.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/24/2024 3:25:30 AM # 1.0.0.1119
