Pursuing the inevitable chase of the moon
An endeavour I wished not to be apart in
But however here I reside in my vessel
With my painted pictures of misery
lining healed skin
Chasing after pale radiation
And avoiding demise
But I trip
Travel slow
For I am in no rush
As the earth leaves without me
It rotates with no regrets
Friends
Family
Rush into the haze
And I watch
With four sore eyes
And a lack of sight