All the ones I
Love the most have
Someone they love
More than me.
The truth of it is
Beautiful;
That lonely knowing
Sets me free.
The legless fly,
The voiceless sing.
There's love in every
Living thing.
And in that love
I bask and laugh,
Composing my own
Epitaph:
*All gods are real, and
Therefore none,* and
*Hell hath merely
Room for one.*
All the ones I love
The most
May barely know a
Man from ghost.
I love their rains, their
Suns and soils,
Their loving others form
The spoils that go
To me right where I
Stand to see:
I need not even
Me.
Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 1:36 PM UTC
All the ones I
Love the most have
Someone they love
More than me.
The truth of it is
Beautiful;
That lonely knowing
Sets me free.
The legless fly,
The voiceless sing.
There's love in every
Living thing.
And in that love
I bask and laugh,
Composing my own
Epitaph:
*All gods are real, and
Therefore none,* and
*Hell hath merely
Room for one.*
All the ones I love
The most
May barely know a
Man from ghost.
I love their rains, their
Suns and soils,
Their loving others form
The spoils that go
To me right where I
Stand to see:
I need not even
Me.
