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Beyond longing

At times I long for something

pure something far from myself

like the unadulterated pain of death.

 

There is something beyond this place

touched upon, felt, while bellowing

from the very depths of your soul.

 

How I long to be immersed

in that whitest of whites,

in that endless sea.

 

But what good would it do

what point would it serve

if it doesn't change who I am

if I don't take something away?

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Written by
william-fredrick-bissette
American
Published
Mar 26, 2012
Lines·Words
13·74
Permission

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