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Solitaire

[being a game where the winner loses against himself]


We just drift further apart,
Turning drops of solitude
From fragments of humidity
Into oceans of solidity
Through which nothing can break:
Hues of black, splattered with blue.
Only lonely? No, This is just the end.
Growth is a natural part of life..
Hate? Part of love.
Thoughts? Meaningless currents passing through the brain.
.
.
.

Author notes

Solitaire; the game where the winner loses against himself.
Written August 9th, 2005

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