As i sit by my table,
As i drink my cold tea,
A thought arises:
Nothing's around me.
All of the sounds,
I heard just now,
And all of the sights
I see somehow.
They're no longer someting,
They're no longer real.
They've achived a stutus,
They possess a free will.
As i sit by my table,
Finishing my cold tea,
A thought arises:
It's no longer here...
A state of nothingness
© Copyright: Desperate, 2001
Свидетельство о публикации №101121200006
Свидетельство о публикации №101121200006
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