Where in these dark plain fields shall i meet my end?
For now i care not how or why,
lethargic emissions claim me unworth of life like the apathist.
Might it be possible this is not for my blame but by those encompassing tempraments upon I,
that the spirits is weak because the spirits of others are weak?
That human essance which is not flesh succumbs by the perennial weakness of others,
affluence becomes failure more likely as human life fades,
if that is what we can call ourselves.
Author notes
Lots of e words.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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'i' needs capitalising. I found this poem quite powerful and dark. I liked the wording here.
Pozo
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