Summer's rest is where I met myself in jest.
When waves turn blue, the yellow strings sing with joy.
But when bones gather, I don the mask of sanity.
Nemo.
A name, perhaps, or just a whisper of doubt.
I swear, I'm unsure, though.
If death comes, bury me with Nemo.
Aug 9, 2025
Aug 9, 2025 at 11:39 AM UTC
Summer's rest is where I met myself in jest.
When waves turn blue, the yellow strings sing with joy.
But when bones gather, I don the mask of sanity.
Nemo.
A name, perhaps, or just a whisper of doubt.
I swear, I'm unsure, though.
If death comes, bury me with Nemo.
