choose again
its pouring rain outside
but my mind is worlds away,
freecasting
from planet to planet.
all i've done all day
is read
and read
and cry
and read.
only pages from the end,
but don't have the strength to say goodbye.
"But this is human life: the war, the deeds,
the disappointment, the anxiety,
Imagination's struggles, far and nigh,
All human: bearing in themselves this good,
That they are still the air, the subtle food,
To make us feel existence, and to show
How quiet death is. Where soil is men grow,
Whether to weeds or flowers; but for me,
There is no depth to strike in..."
:(
but my mind is worlds away,
freecasting
from planet to planet.
all i've done all day
is read
and read
and cry
and read.
only pages from the end,
but don't have the strength to say goodbye.
"But this is human life: the war, the deeds,
the disappointment, the anxiety,
Imagination's struggles, far and nigh,
All human: bearing in themselves this good,
That they are still the air, the subtle food,
To make us feel existence, and to show
How quiet death is. Where soil is men grow,
Whether to weeds or flowers; but for me,
There is no depth to strike in..."
:(