Age of Emptiness
In an age of emptiness
in the ways of nonsense
the meaning of life
is meaningless
If we stand
do we each alone
single thoughts under
single days and nights
'The fertile fallow furrow
fleeting under flurries of fressly
fallen snow.'
for sure...
And we are the huskless stalks
shivering in the wind
row upon row
thousands upon thousands
going nowhere
and nowhere to go
poem by Midnights Voice
Added by Poetry Lover
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