This silver fruit will spoil one day;
no gentle tongue
can defend me.
I have emptied myself of regret;
the old garden has ceased
from memory.
Blackening stillness engulfs.
Grey silhouettes stir the silence.
Immortality descends to depths
where it perishes within seconds.
And I am faced with cold hands,
dead circuitry,
machine with a heart,
wires burnt out.
Or version 2:
This silver fruit will spoil one day; no gentle tongue can defend me.
I have emptied myself of regret; the old garden has ceased from memory.
Stillness engulfs grey silhouettes As immortality descends to depths where it perishes within seconds.
And I am faced with cold hands, dead circuitry, machine with a heart, wires burnt out.
Adding your comment:
