Tell the reaper take my soul away / Darkness is consuming me

I love the absence of color / Cavernous black strokes no longer cause me fright

I see old days / I see old people

It’s what I want now / Passive virtue of my intentions

Scribbling phrases over and over / No longer framed from a child’s mind

Ice freezes where my skull meets / I wonder how I have done this to myself

The breeze is not calming but painful / I speed my step

Like what you read? Give Hatim Abbasi a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.