rot

maybe this is the way it always ends. yeah.. remember this?

The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river


i think it will end. for the first time, i can actually see it happen, like a little video clip being played inside my head. and then it's all over. not with a bang but a whimper.

it wasn't as grand as we thought it was.

here we go round the prickly pear? game over, it's time to go home. what used to be our passions became food leftover, lukewarm, lying lifeless on the table. waiting for itself to rot.

whatever, it wasn't supposed to mean anything in the first place, right? i'm tired..