Depraved New World
The mirror stared back this morning
With the emptiness of a past that
Eludes the blankness of the stare.
Ageing...living...pleasure are mere
Illusions of an existence of nothingness.
Where art thou my soul?
The day of unfulfilled imagery of dreams,
Fed by the desperation of simply being,
Taking up space so not to create a vacuum
Of blackness, thick as infinity.
Life and love begets sorrow and pain...
Life and love are test tube dreams.
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