The Emptiness and The Cry of Loneliness

I’m in France and the beers here seem to be made with a pickling juice a lemony flavor of citrus and with the sort of commotion it’s all like the moon is not really full, what was all that commotion.

The rooms are vacant and the shelves are empty. This is a rather large place and it’s empty. The railroad station and the town, they are nearby. There is a main road.  They are signs saying this is a Pension / Hotel. The door is wide open.


A passage of time that has stood still. A keepsafe for those who still dwell in the past?  I hear a raven’s cry outdoors.

There’s an emptiness here. I guess it once was a lively place. Shall I ask are there any vacancies here. I should like to stay here. Should I?  Well, I can see that nothing is happening here so I should just move on. There is no one here. I like this place, it is quite different.


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