Corridors of Nothing Menopause
Agh! Oh how I burn
For that which will never be mine
Shivering thin branch, me
My forebearers weep
Agh! Oh how I burn
For the corridor is long and black
Lined with closed doors
A crisp light around their edge
Voices ever beyond
My forebearers weep
God! Where are you?!
There was no answer
Autor(es): Mark Sheeky
