Written by Brian Hardie
Empty night
Crowded room
Severed human
Done I am, soon
What question soars
Through the sea
Through the sails
Ripping in me
Wind pounds
When not approved
My fearsome resetting
Needs to breathe
Spoken void
Warped vision
Thrown away
Something whispers
A soft demand
Collect the mess
Stain the air
Plunge the brink
Never declare
Text © Brian Hardie
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