zyrielle

underneath the chair where the shadow of your rest remains lingers memories of tired limbs bending sweaty, resting tired, relaxing underneath the chair where nobody bothers to look abandoned nothings lay purposely hidden maybe forgotten perhaps once sought once important or maybe not at all underneath the chair all that is shiny, broken and tattered everything and everyone is equal beneath the layers of comfort's bottom nothing is superior or inferior all preferences are forgotten underneath the chair voices are silenced dreams and ideas die and become dust everything becomes blanketed in fine layers of gray underneath