Empty
There is no lightor dark here,
just faceless meaning
washed in monotony.
Utter clarity
trickles and weeps,
falling down
porcelain skin.
Without cold
or air,
deplete and barren,
echoes die--
A virgin ascension
to heights of non existence,
mundane
yet ethereal.
No feeling at all,
no will,
no meaning,
just a ceiling
emptied of stars.
Poetry by intothehaze
Read 1395 times
Written on 2005-08-05 at 22:33
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