Skip to main content

The Dying Universe

In the middle of the storm
the wind carries soft voices.

Maybe it's not over yet.

Maybe the sun will kiss us
one last time
when we walk into
moonlight;
along winding promenades
of sand of time;
backpacking through
the dying universe.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Thank you for your comment!

Popular posts from this blog

The Long And Winding Road

The long and winding road winds up and down the lonely hills, leading me from the wild and wide sea, with stormy winds in my back, through grassy and misty lands, sky overcast, scarf wrapped around my small and slender shoulders, up and down the rocky hills, goats and sheep my only friends on this long, last journey, up into the mountains high, woods all around me, climbing up high towards my resting place. From here I shall watch the sea, the place I loved, and never shall I return.
Post a Comment
Read more

Just Give Me One More

Just give me one more, one more cup of coffee on this dreary November morning. The wind was throwing rain drops at me like bullets from a gun. Different shades of grey as the day continues. Just one more cup of coffee to get me to the other side.
Post a Comment
Read more

Just Take My Soul

Just take my soul, piece by piece, rip it apart, dissolve it and pour it down the drain. I'll be better off among my own, among the dead. You think I'm a liar, maybe I am. Who knows what's real anyway? I can see my world slowly dissolving around me. I wish I could burn my skin and flesh away, dissolve with my world into nothingness - a fast, floating dream without any impact. Is now the time to say goodbye?
Post a Comment
Read more