in the vastness of it all,
seventy one percent of life
death, left stranded within
the depths of the unknown—loss becomes secondary to
the waves that crash onto shore,
writings carved into sand washed away
by time's
cruel handthere is nothing
left to give
when the sirens remember
my name, singing prayers
to the moon during
midnight

Special thanks to my dear friend Xion, for making the breathtaking poem for me.

zines that I took part of!
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