NaBloPoMo #16 – Surrogate #15

A melancholic sadness,
A softly, softley wide awakening,
Eyes open,
Iris’ flex,
Soaking it all in,
blurring filled with internal rain.
Thunderous.
Shaking uncontrollably as we meet,
As we sit, speak, meet, disagree.
Cut deep and hurt, seemingly eternally.
A life is a life,
Flows from low to highs.
The world is shattered and shredded with incessant strife.
I have no place to hide,
I have no strength to cry,
I have no voice to verbalise.

I die as We die.

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