The smokey fog covers all and sundry.
Senses fade away with the notion of boundary.
Death's echo floating round life roundly.

The screech of our swings all I do hear.
Thumbing of a heart felt so near.
Slides sliding to the hell we hold dear.

Inexistence; our share of reality.
Reflection; our crucible of destiny.
Your absence; my part of grief.
© pius luanga