When death is not an option
By Anonymous
When death is not an option,
and the world grows cold with silence,
where do I find myself
in the emptiness that life forgot?
and when the final door stays closed,
where do I wander
within the room of my own becoming?
Death no longer is a doorway for me
just a never changing shadow ,
and life, a hollow burden,
boring in its cruel repetition.
It is just wandering between
The space of sky and earth
Where gravity is constantly pulling down
And your constant curiosity to touch sky
And so I remain,
caught between sky and soil,
with no doors left to open,
no corridors leading elsewhere.
Only the echo of my own footsteps,
fading into dust filled halls ,
where even time forgets my name,