Ishaisms, Poetry

Shroud

This black shroud of depressionlaced with lost times droops over the dreamy eyethat refuses to wake up, and casting itasunder, walkfree toliveIt has resignedto its fate,and waits for the oilto be poured over itso it can charinto nothingnessletting goof Mayaand delusion and any hope,but the final sleep © ishaisms

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