Stay
Standing in the middle of a field
Empty, alone, desolate.
Not even the slightest amount of wind,
And still you shake, hypothermic, frozen.
The sun begins its descent, moving away,
Taking your soul with it.
Unmoving, careless, lost, dead.
Still you stand in the field.
Your soul has been taken by the sun.
You stare straight ahead,
As you fold into the ground.
Unwelcomed, abused, tormented.
Still you fit perfectly, in the ground.
This is where you belong,
Until the sun returns your soul,
This is where you will stay.
👁 3💬 2
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