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Mar 2020
Why do I exist?
But for the promiscuous chaos
Of stardust pirouettes
And tumbling atoms
Their attraction fathomable
Through the gravity
That weighs heavy
On my heart

For whom do I exist?
But she who crumbles me
Within her palm
Into fine powder
And blows me
From her fingertips
As I evanesce
Into air

For what do I exist?
But to seek the infinite
Because the finite
Is crushing
Emptiness
Where I sit alone
Waiting for an end
To being alone
Written by
Tran Thuy Anh
559
 
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