Empty fields

Feel lonely.
That deep loneliness that reaches your soul.
It is then that you remember who you.
Relieved that you exist.
Though that burning sense on the stomach.
The high cost of living.
Eternally observing.
Reaching freedom through a sweet misery of loss.
Life needs you awaken, even sleepless.

The British landscape invades into my heart.
Which lusts for space.
Being friend with my emptiness in these empty fields.
The places I visit reflect on me.
As if I extend and become part of them.
To whom I belong?
To places.

To nothing.


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