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I can feel your voice at the precipice of the void
Your slate blue lips are but a crumbling asteroid
Fingertips piercing through the octarine veil
Our tears flow frozen in billowing red trails
Hastening these thrashings due in the aether
You whisper "I am not alive" and make me a believer
Cold subsumes into isolation so pure
Yet the pull of your being I've come to endure
Speak in azure plumes of silicate dust
Caustic nihilism left me exhaling rust
There is no comfort in this shadowed distance
Only the hope for a future of an instant
Â
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- 2 years ago
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