I spend the moments walking past pictures of sights filled with visions of a future, that has nothing to do with me in reality. For my light had not shown upon this scene, it had been caged in a time only meant for me to follow the path layed out, with a time limited that ticks into an through my heart. Only in crossing have the strings of us ever crossed, with no memories to share of a company of companions.
The darkness that lays like a slot that could have been filled with us, only leaves room for what we have already known, an what a shame for the opportunities should have fit us together like a puzzle piece to ease us into peace. Instead we are left with a half that is mesmerized in obsession, marred by the tissue that cannot stitch itself back together to form harmony.
In the end our time is filled with endless loops that never lead to the finish line, continuous repetition to the same loop, hopelessness. Crawling through our skin to consume us like a person trapped underneath the water with their hand sticking in the air, beconning hope. So what we are left with is the agonizing descent in the form of a ladder, following their steps down, the end result, nothing.
©rimson
R