Paper Island

Adrift to sea in chains of land,

Across the fabric, desolate grand.

Illusion that folds that escape the touch,

For sail alone on a shattered clutch.

The world was wicked with burden that build,

Holding, swelling, like leeches would yield.

An entrance to forth, of passage to sleep,

That dream beyond the imagine deep.


Artist: Island by megatruh

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