Disconnected floating
away from our roots
down
still light
maybe we land
close
together
Nochrisis
Day 1104, believe.
When people started dividing,
in the cave we never left,
the few in front of us all
where only closer to the shapes
the shadows of what is not
for us all.
Nochrisis
Day 1059, grey-less.
The red stands for blood
that runs through our construct
the black, and white our views.
The red is what we spill
our construct wants to rule
we are, black and white.
Nochris
Day 973, your shadow.
An empty still life
once the bearer of your cloak
casting your shadow.
Day 954, grey.
At low tide, birds feed
and the air and light is grey
time stands still and goes.
Day 902, endless.
Boundless summer bliss
when our time stretched endlessly
etched in a grey past.
Day 876, grey sky.
