Wings of the dead

I wander,

as to wonder,

the lands of this dwellers,

that my robes cannot,

and would not touch the ground,

albeit my sinewy ones,

chills to my eye.

Death did not cast me,

nor life wanted not to ressurect me,

thus

do i will,

ever. . .

Wander as i worry,

wail as to lament.

So please if you do see me, look not at me,

yet never speak,

nor touch,

thus your eyes see,

the truth lies not in front but never forget

what is in past and back of your history.

🤖👾👽🤖🤖👽🤖

© oliver a. melendez.

© all artworks and poetry by ohms / @rstydhude

@cp2.x

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