A dark brooding day upon a winter's night

In life, in death. Much is lost. All we see, all we believe. Everything can be broken. The heart is fragile, the mind is weak. In darkness or daylight, in moonlight or sun. A broken heart is broken, a shattered mind unspoken.

Reality takes its toll. The frailty of joy grows with every time it unfolds. A step at a time. An inch by every inch. Ever closer we crawl, ever nearer it comes. The edge. The ending of time and space. The finality that marks this world as what it is. A swirling mass of ever undulating fate. Rising with the tides, and disappearing in the sands of days.

Cringing at it. Tearing. Crying for nothing. Eternity is nothing. Nonexistence. That, is everything. Questions is all we have. Every answer is but a bridge to more. Never will we untie the complications that is our prison. Forever trapped. Forever forbidden. Forever pinned under the weight of our years. All is lost. All is dark. Harken the day you die.

Seething in the flames of time. Searching for the source. Looking for that burning bush that is where we belong. Finding solace in the flames. Finding joy while drowning in pain. So tiring. So tiring. So tiring. The mind breaks. The heart burns. But feelings, are but a shell when your soul is but an empty well.

Brood on. Eternal damnation upon this land you'll see till the day when all is lost and from eternity you will break free. Till the day you die.