in-between days,
floating past,
as though stunned by time,
a cosy arrangement,
with the brain,
a time -share of the mind,
with service that lacks spontaneity,
must one leave a tip for room service? 
or do I sneak out ?
leaving an unpaid bill
to serve as a reminder of where I've been.

This mortal coil. Unfurled

This mortal coil. Unfurled 
your soul now glides effortlessly 
through where you once battled,
your wild heart
now free to roam 
in the places you never imagined possible.
We watch the heavens in quiet jealousy,
secretly hoping
that the winds of time
blow as true as we are told
shunning all thought
of the tattered edges of the reapers dark cloak 
onwards, upwards,
eternally hoping,
for a peaceful end,
to our mortal coil.



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