As the soil overlaps your head
As your eyes fill with insect eggs
As i watch the glimmer disappear
As my eyes not shed one single tear
As i wish you one final goodbye
As i wipe the blood of my knife.
In harsh conditions, please; scream my name
With such ambition i shalln't be late.
Myself shall run from town to lake
For all the folk rise were they lay
For all the young halt there games
For i shall run and mustn't be late.
YOU ARE READING
ELEVEN EMPTY LINES
Poésie𝕰𝖑𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝕰𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖞 𝕷𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘 ‼️。𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖕𝖔𝖊𝖒𝖘 ˚✧₊⁎❝᷀ົ‼️ (give credit if you want idrc><)
