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Finished work/ Ground zero Post a poem. it takes life to give life. a piece of you, a part from and to. it is mute, but it weighs on you like old age. we humans found our own alchemy. We use words and make paper golden, and in the process we become immortal. lingering in time, reaching for the edge. The beautifulest words, the ones that make you ache inside. It might be the last living magic left. it feels as if it has a hold on you, to caress, to shake, to hold when in need of being held. I cant fully feel the magnitude, it forgets me. and i am left behind in these lines, with these words, moving yet motionless.
