Reflections Upon The Loss of Self


Sometimes I wish, that you,
Would just die;
For then, your absence,
Would be not from choice,
But dictated by the hands of fate.

Two years, since the fact,
Two years I’ve searched;
To replace, to upgrade,
Such a rare slice,
Of divine rarity.

Why now, even now,
Do I cry for you?
Why do you haunt me so?
That eternal invader, intruder,
Of my subconscious, my love.

Now joy, emotional discourse,
Alien concepts to me;
A disconnect, between man,
And I, alone stand, an anomaly,
In a sea of mediocre clones.

Was I, born of this world,
I do not comprehend?
Or did I fall, from the barren depths,
From the outer cosmos?
An Elder One without kin.

You, you humans see,
With eyes and feelings;
I, the gelatinous mound,
Of tentacles and malice,
See only through red.

I am, the colour red,
In a world of black and white;
None but you, could provide,
Clarity; part my darkness,
With your ethereal light.

Two years, to most,
Enough time to heal;
That only applies, to those who feel,
For I feel nothing, but the loss of you.
Can’t you see?
Can’t you see that I’m lost without you?

Joshua Moulinie

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