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The Stain of Existence

Place the void before me and I will cower Fill it and I will pulse with awe Neither pushes me down the path The winding way, that greenish-yellow place I once described in my innocence. I'm mistaken, languishing Anticipating some outside force, Propellant, dependent on Otherness to accomplish bliss Folly filling my chance. I wondered, then, if I would live Laughing at the speed of one Planetary body, cynical as Iago. When I found time could hold me Luck equals opportunity plus more: effort Place before me a sheet of paper I will cover it with echoes Neither real nor imaginary Ghosts that haunt my happy place A stain excreted, evincing existence.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017




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