Читать книгу the distinctly human condition - Finn Rose - Страница 4

with sunken wing-less shoulders, bends my spine

the weight of the weeping world

in flames and drowned in

muddy black waters

in hot sand

in cold, dry air

encompassed tight-hugged and unfathomably reckoned with

i am atlas & i carry forth.

heavy is the head that is a

vessel filled up to the brim with

all of it and all the time there's more

from all directions

from within

the end of days

with knees cracked open, weakened and my

feet in the dirt

i uproot myself to take a step

alone for all i know

for all they care

& here's the answer; we've always made a sound