Stages of existence

Stages of existence

A Poem by Golnazhg

 

The first day of life, when I was born I told the doctor,

“I came from dirt and will go back to it in three days,”

But on the ride home, swaddled in thick wool;

I became one with the air instead.


Changing to fill every crevice and nook of every place

Be it cramped�"


Or filthy.


(With nothing; something in-between...)

...

...

...

...


And now your three days are done,


Wild with fear and regret,


Fire hissing and spitting in rain


Your house is no longer a home


Your body no longer a place


Where your soul can stay for a moment


longer.


© 2018 Golnazhg


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Added on April 15, 2018
Last Updated on April 15, 2018