Oblivion As the hands of an ancient grandfather clock lie still beneath stale glass, My lungs are pressured to oblivion. You are the black sea, and I am drowning into your depth, Sinking. Pain other than physical is invisible to the eye, I go unnoticed. Weights are glued upon my shoulders, Vision scarred and heart decaying. Time is still, as I am here - Still But time lives on As you watch me die.
Respect!
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Richard Withey
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