A life that's devoid of itself,
a love that's devoid of wholeness,
I am counting days in this lazy passage of time,
hoping for life to press fast forward,
to spring or summer.
The cold winter has frozen everything,
from the tops of mountains to the depths of human hearts.
I could use some change,
In seasons as well as reasons as to why I should exist.
In this passage of darkness,
not a hint of light even in the distance.
Going here and there, everywhere,
but reaching nowhere.
A life that's devoid of itself,
a love that's devoid of wholeness.
I'm in search of some.
Anyone who's got in abundance?
I,being devoid of purpose, still in
This is beautiful and highly relatable