The Longingness With Solitude

I am quiet,
maybe the tempest
is to come;
in the absence
of the daylight,
for i am an ocean
that has been unleashed;
and a mountain
that reamains unhealed;
for years so long and
the decades very dwarf.
Yes i stand amid the strife,
and carry no multitude by my side;
for a plural number
i consider to be my solitairy eye,
the echoes i create spell a rebound over again
when the mountains feel my voice,
and reflect all my sounds;
but absorbing my absolute
and my worship to exist more
rests unto the laps of the nocturn
filled with the dark,
touching my arms
like a lucid feather…

[Rupésh van Morvick Work; Photographer-Bjorn Lunde]


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