OblivionA Poem by foxcryptids
I stood in wait,
listening to the siren call of oblivion. Stranded on the cliff of not enough, never enough. The hours were a sluggish veil blinding and filtering giving occasional glimpses, breaths, of sharp air to fill my lungs. So still I wait, hoping to take my last. Fearing that this will be the last. Forever on the knife's edge between oblivion and breath.
© 2021 foxcryptids |
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Added on December 4, 2021 Last Updated on December 4, 2021 Author
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