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the tattered remains
lie in the trenches
covered in filth
and debris.
the cold body is no where to be seen.
the being is hollow.
this whole world has been taken.
it wanders past,
to and fro,
forever waiting for comfort.
for a reason, a purpose, anything.
nothing is ever found
because there is nothing to find.
there is only emptyness to annialate all.
everything to love, disappear.
disappear.
'disappear from here and you shall be free',
she said.
so he did.
and now nothing lives,
except the tattered remains.
Wibble TheFisch
| Submitted Date |
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Sunday, November 26, 2006 |
| Submitted Date |
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Saturday, November 27, 2010 |
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Poets
