Poetry

Chaos

Written By Jacob Ibrag

And when we linger for the things

we lost in the fire, our hands burn. And

when we stare into the burning sun, our eyes

grow blind. And when we pray for reason, our

minds go numb. And when our bodies shiver,

our legs walk to the darkest part of the

moon. Forever contradicting, always

questioning, wounded.


Painting By Paul Browne

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