Four

I sit alone rambling to

myself, in thought, word

and deed.

 

Reality deteriorating before

my perceptions.

I take a walk, to put my

lacking sanity to the test.

 

Reaching the bottom of the

iron stairs, I find that in solitude

my sanity excels.

 

The question is whether I am

dying to the world or the

world is dying to me.

 

Either way, I’ll enjoy the requiem.

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