Thursday, July 27, 2017

The Lost

Well I am,
And you are.
We feel,
And we live,
But do we?

What is a life, 
Dismal, astray and wounded
Succors what seems to be The Found,
Lies to it—this is The Lost.

Faultfinding, traveling around a world
Seeking a kingdom,
Truthless, we are all made deranged,
Albeit we all have lows,
We all have highs.

This very ground,
Aquiver lands where we stand,
We breathe,
This is our kingdom,
Ingrained—our perfection,
Our very own golden pedestal.

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