Death of one

Jeremy1012Jeremy1012 Posts: 7,170
edited December 2007 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
Thereby I stood, immovable and rent,
like a wave uncrashed in rigid seas,
purpose unfulfilled but unneeded.
Fancy that, a dream without wonder,
wonder without expectance, or a being
of everything and nothingness.
And all, so calmly demanding, so
needy, are but whispers on a windbreath,
lost tones in the squall.
So it goes,
that one might be and need not.
"I remember one night at Muzdalifa with nothing but the sky overhead, I lay awake amid sleeping Muslim brothers and I learned that pilgrims from every land — every colour, and class, and rank; high officials and the beggar alike — all snored in the same language"
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