Cut off from the here and now,
I drift in time and space,
With all the anguish of a cow
That’s reached the killing place.
As if I’m always out of breath,
I gasp for ample air;
In spite of which, the dogs of death
Pursue me everywhere.
And, though I long to know the cause
Why I’m so all alone,
I think it’s one of nature’s laws
To which I must be prone.
Whatever, though, the lack of truth
Has served to cloud my shining youth.
Photo by Gift Habeshaw on Unsplash