eyes stark, limbs suspended
we drift through the years
unaware of the phantom vulture who
licks its beak at our asininity.
Cold and alone,
we all yearn to love and be loved.
We empty ourselves of a paramour
only to be filled with another and we
wanted to cling,
but there was nothing to cling on to.
The dead leave us starving
with mouths full of love. The world is
in vicissitude, yet we remain
unyielding and stubborn and we moan
incessantly, pathetically until in a rage
God kills us.
And so we die.
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