Saturday, August 17, 2019

What Dust


What dust this is, this life; what filth we wallow in.
Ah, to live is but to suffer until death.
No purpose lies beneath, no reason, no reward.
Still I covet every heartbeat, every breath,
Every chance to simply gaze upon your smile, dear,
Every chance to hear you whisper in my ear.

This wicked world could burn to ashes overnight
And I would die without a worry or a care
If you were but by my side in the inferno
With my fingers buried in your flowing hair.
For the flames will never touch us where we lie, dear,
Our embrace will keep us safe, so have no fear.

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