Who are We? To each, unknown.

Desiccated.

Bleakness.

Bone.

Epoch’s wastrels, died alone.

Antiquated.

Feckless.

Thrown.

Garbage heap, the Shards are strewn.

Replicated.

Soulless.

Stone.

Who are We? To each, unknown.

Re-Created.

Pointless.

Groan.

Please! Epoch, leave us alone.


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Blogging Poetry

Obol View All →

Obol is a poet and an infrequent writer of prose.

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