Under the guise of ill intent
The gravity of the fall tears the veil
exposing an empty corpse whose weight
buckles the shoulders of a lost traveller

his home, the world, embalmed
with the suffocating haze of the real
his life, all the memories, sealed away
microns beyond, yet unreachable
its hollow gaze everlasting, frozen in time

In cold angst he dwells, watching
from a far away distance

A cosmic joke! In existential irony
the death of this feeling appears
mirroring its birth, taunting
ready to plunge... once more

old friends lost to memory
thaw in the heat of a new sun
let their deaths sow the seeds
of a thousand more worlds beyond

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