No Title


In the blackness of the night
I ponder my own mortality.
I ask age old questions like
Where have I been? and
Where am I going?
Those questions lie unanswered 
in my mind as seemingly
more relevant questions are 
conjured
Do you love me?
Or do I even love you?
I will let these questions
age with the ageless as it
is still a young night
and there are other ponderings
more easily answered in the 
blackness of the night.

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