“All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.”
Anatole France
Hey you, within this mortal coil I dwell,
A labyrinth of thoughts where shadows swell.
I, a stranger in this house of clay,
Yet none more …
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Deep River to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.