Your pawn, erected. Stiff. Spineless but still standing tall. The ride bumpy, the rose redish pounding. Mine as yours as ours unfold, seismic the beginning, apocalyptic the ending. Without cuddles, a failure.
About The Author
Hayden Veil
In an earlier incarnation, Hayden Veil enjoyed a successful career in software engineering, writing late-night poetry in pursuit of sanity. On 2 February 2020, the world of Hayden Veil changed: Ghosts became real and with its soul laid bare there was no turning back from the perpetual path of poetry.