Running away, an alternative to oblivion,

where knowing one is missed is enough to satisfy.

To wonder how they think of me as I live through my death;

my removal from a life that brought me nought but misery.

Allowing me time to entertain proclivity;

to wallow in immorality with every breath.


No one to judge me, no one to care,

no one to chide me with ‘How do you dare?’

Forcing thoughts of her face and her voice

from my mind, as if, given a choice,

I would turn to her and throw it all away.

I would sacrifice all for just one day.


But then I would lose this endless experience.

My life would be robbed of all resilience

and I would be left with a final breath:

the conversation I would have with Death.


And he did not respond.


Still, the fantasy of submitting to wild abandon

was sullied by echoes of goodness and right.

What would she think, with her moral standing,

of me, if I changed when removed from her sight?


So I sought other wonders, other sins and pleasures,

in this wondrous Universe allowed to evolve.

A sightseeing galaxy of luminous treasures

exposed to the curiosity of mankind’s resolve.


I journeyed to planets of alien conception.

I witnessed suns setting where no footsteps roamed.

On beaches of fire, quenched by liquid reception,

I soothed my cold heart, far from memories of home.


The farther I wandered, on vessels of light

that were powered by engines of stellar progression,

the life that had once seemed so integral and right

faded further into the mire of a dreamer’s concession.


I lost myself in the magic of darkness

where pinpoints of light spoke of tunnels with ends;

where worlds of new settling welcomed good men and bad

and the suns rose and set by humanity’s trends

of self-destruction, creation and appreciating nought.

These were the days my disconnection sought.

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