I am naked of you,
once again, unclothed by love.
Unfurnished;
I know everything of nothing.
In sympathy of tears,
this air gives up its water;
hydrogen
separates from oxygen.
Locked in these cycles
we hold our own truth.
Pulsating,
we pass through aeons.
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Author:
Yorke (
Offline) - Published: December 1st, 2016 11:43
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 25
Offline)
Comments4
clever piece you pen well done. ww
Thank you kindly.
nicely written...enjoyed
Thank you very much
Great write
Thank you for your kind words.
Welcome
This is very special poetry and a tribute to (if I'm understanding the poet) to unending love.
It is unending love. Since energy can be neither created nor destroyed this means whatever molecules or matter creates us must have existed for all time, reforming and recreating itself. If we think of our love as an energy we can imagine that all love still exists and who knows how many times love has found its love again. Or something ? Thank you very much 😁
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