Poetic Void

My solitude is not just mine.
It expands and conquers the world.
Though we stand,
Everything around collapses.
So solitude becomes support.
Within me, shrouded in mist,
a frigid pillar rising at the advent
of farewell at dawn.
The ground gutted by a great wound of rubble—
here I gathered flowers
that sprouted from molten earth, from bent knees
and decaying wood.
So lonely is this place
where fear of absence outweighs the will to
surrender to oblivion.

Image/Pinterest.

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Published on January 23, 2026 10:29
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