Look at you, passing the time and traveling worlds,
Jumping through hoops of reliving, in hope to relieve
Pain, turning to memories, turning to words,
A brilliant and strangely spectacular make-believe.
Atlases, carrying sky which cannot fall,
Titans, carrying voidness, same as you were.
You watch it melt to the core, beyond recall -
Myriad turning to mirror, turning to myrrh.
Walk by the water, collect empty sea shells, listen to them.
Talk to the ocean, speak if you mean it, go if you must.
Look and behold it, all that you are, all that I am -
Prophecy, turning to testament, turning to dust.
***
© Copyright: Анна Рорк, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117071100844
Свидетельство о публикации №117071100844
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