In the huge of bulk, we stand upright,
Breathe with heavy hearts, a solemn plight,
Living wild, in the vast expanse,
In this cosmic dance, we take our chance.
No matter how far we seek away,
In the end, we find ourselves at bay,
Amidst the stars, the moon, and stone,
Together yet isolated, we are alone.
YOU ARE READING
It's all about nothing,
PoésieNo matter how much I loved you, you wrote my character with the ink of disgust.
