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Library: for rimbaud
Books
Author: Meursault
Date:Aug 20 1997
this pale blue room
it faces the rising sun
yet there is no warmth
that unforgiving light
give nothing but blindness
despite all afflictions
i call this place home
this is my world
every cloud and every star
i know every one outside
my window
it is a gateway, a doorway
i see a more comforting world
if i only leave this room
but then what?
i know of no life that is outside these walls
summer is almost over
all will die
and will not peer outward until next year
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