[ 1940 hrs. ]
And when the lights went and gone
Everything is but a veil of ebony
Yet.. above; a thousand, a million even
Of myself, and you, as well, blinking back between these crevices of mine
Soothing the aftermath of war in my very being —
The dry evening wind barely touching the scars evident still on my skin,
And the faint voices from afar, running down to the last of my senses.
Oh how at rest could I ever be? And so I wonder if tonight, under the same sky,
I wonder if you see the world above as my eyes do tonight.
YOU ARE READING
IMP /SEC
Poetry─「 🕓 」 ───────── in every second of the clock, i think of you and you alone ╱|、 (˚ˎ 。7 |、˜〵 じし ˍ,)ノ ──────────────── 𝐈𝐌�...
