Book of Gone viiiA Poem by Thomas Emile Vaughenviii
Dizzy at the thought of spatial-temporal
existence, knowing every minute and hour - we are bleeding profusely into the eternal Fading flux, temporary erection of molecules in atomic Godbody We will not weep inside of him, no pain; no mourning Only holy solace for the sleeping (R) 21:4
© 2021 Thomas Emile Vaughen |
Stats
37 Views
Added on May 27, 2021 Last Updated on May 27, 2021 AuthorThomas Emile VaughenFloating around the north of England, United KingdomAboutSometimes I make myself a coffee, pop on the internet and write stuff. Read at your *peril*. Can be found on Substack [https://thomasemilevaughen.substack.com] or Bluesky [@cperil.bsky.soci.. more.. |

Flag Writing