Nat S Ford (natf) wrote,
Nat S Ford

It flows over me
I don't seem to realise
It does not sink in
It is real
But it seems imaginary
A farce
Disappearing urgency
Was there any?
Around the island
Waves of panic
Crush rock-like staunch hearts
On the summit I look down
It cannot reach me now
It is too far gone.
Tags: nsf_writing

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