Jul 15, 2021, 3:25 PM

Winter Hexagon XVII.XII.2019 

  Poetry » Other
748 0 0

 

So dead as me, without sound
The light now vanish never to return;
I feel the everlasting cold around
Inside my interstellar urn.

 

And again, and again, and again
I listen to the voice inside my mind -
Where's darkness no hope shall remain;
I have no face, I have no breath and I am blind.

 

...And somewhere far away from here
I know - my time will end to be no more;
The last remains of light will disappear
And my beloved The Void will hold me like before.

 

I feel a nameless cold around
Inside my interstellar urn;
So dead as me, without sound
The light is vanish never to return.

© Peter Wolf All rights reserved.

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