siranswerer

and I float

i feel as if,
life has ended.
i exist on a plane of grey sands
and desert air.

desolation graces the horizon
and clouded skies, bleak the view.
wind whistling through emptiness,
the only sound.

colour is drained, from dream and reality alike.
i feel life force, sapped.
its not even a struggle, to carry on.
there is no on.

my body, wasted, light lifted.
scaled against air, which is heavier.
a shadow of a soul, exists,
but blackened and burnt.

the charcoal that once was life,
can not even create art anew.
it will not draw, or shade.
it will not sing. it will not write.

and with these words i bid adieu,
to love, gratefully received.
and fantasy, i forget.
and i float.