Posted on

at the mourning of our was

alone.
we enter.
regardless accommodation of companion during the hyphen between,
the dates that serve as bookends to our existence inclusive to us –
ours,
alone.
 
what purpose then,
the becoming?
castles made of colored sand still suffer denigration by the tide.
and what of this game of charades –
companion?
for all the effort involved in allowing –
no guarantee of dividend paid –
much less ample return on investment.
 
irrelevant the assemblage at the mourning of our was.
alone.
we exit.
Unknown's avatar

About boyfrommville

bound to a fate i cannot escape, i stop by briefly to expunge the demons... care to join me?

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.