Subtle reminders of our mortality,
how the only change will be reality.
I gazed deep into the waters of the lagoon,
and slipped right in, right under the moon.
Now, I'm drowning,
no-one wants to be frowning
on their death bed,
bleeding blood red.
Am I supposed to sleep for a fifty thousand years?
Or will I stand up from my grave for that long, my ears
almost bursting from the sound of the horn,
the death of the world born.
Take me past the longest bridge,
please.
It's alright, I'll have patience with
me.
How billions of eyes will be forced to turn back to their shadows, to tell,
to dwell on nothing but the unchanging past,
awaiting a future that will forever last.
I'm not sure what's scarier,
mortality
or immortality,
which seems to be fairer?
We were born for the darkness beneath,
covered from head to toe in white sheets.
Buried deep,
too deep.
So light, like liquid, cannot seep,
So that we may forever sleep.
So light can't wake our weeping eyes that lay shut,
but mine will glare up to the roof of my coffin, but,
it'll be temporary.
Besides, infected eyes are customary.
Our souls came from darkness by the grace of God, almighty.
From darkness we came and to darkness we'll return, that's right, see?
Some call them Non-Existence,
others call them Death.
And I say this with persistence,
without taking another breath,
that their true name
you have always really seen,
that their true name
is inexorable Phosphene.
-The colour of
and
The Killer of
Consciousness,
Subconsciousness,
Unconsciousness,
Perception, and us.
YOU ARE READING
Finding the Edge (Volume Two)
Poetry👽👽👽👽👽👽👽👽👽👽👽👽👽👽 Auns Second Wattpad Poetry Book. Referred to as Volume Two of Aun's poetry book series on Wattpad, an evolutionary series where all books differ stylistically and thematically, are still different from one another but st...
