"When to the sessions of sweet silent thought..." ~ William Shakespeare
There is nothing sweet or silent about my thoughts. They are as a cacophony of thunderous emotion which boom against the brick walls of hindrance and despondency that I've built in my wage against an uncertain destiny.
Am I bound for the immortality that is akin to rapacious craving in my terminable coil? Or am I bound for dust and the ash that I am namesake? A forgotten form that will dwell in the tide of longing that for eons has swallowed whole those that do not ever manage more than to live.
In my mind, I shine brighter than the nova sun. In reality, very few look beyond the sullen shell that carries inside it my luminous core.
There is nothing sweet or silent about my thoughts. They are as a cacophony of thunderous emotion which boom against the brick walls of hindrance and despondency that I've built in my wage against an uncertain destiny.
Am I bound for the immortality that is akin to rapacious craving in my terminable coil? Or am I bound for dust and the ash that I am namesake? A forgotten form that will dwell in the tide of longing that for eons has swallowed whole those that do not ever manage more than to live.
In my mind, I shine brighter than the nova sun. In reality, very few look beyond the sullen shell that carries inside it my luminous core.
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