From Death’s point of view,
We are stubborn and dull.
In a way, we withhold our life.
She’s waiting for us
To be drawn to our scars,
To be mocked by collateral pasts.
From Death’s point of view,
Our end slowly approaches.
Our life is too short.
Our vision is blurred.
Our story is believed to be destined.
From Death’s point of view,
She’s lonely in Her pursuits
To be loved by departed souls,
To be heard in Her desperate songs,
To be recognized in mesmerized glory.
And as long as She walks
Among creatures and stones,
Among men and trees,
Among stars and ocean breeze,
We’re doomed to be seen.
So damn with Her truth,
Let’s pretend we see Her too,
And write stories with Her being fooled.
From Death s point of view
© Copyright: Екатерина Морозова 25, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124060805921
Свидетельство о публикации №124060805921
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