Foolish and mortal, is the inner voice that says it didn't have to be like this
Infinite choices, equally pointless
Bear witness, my child
Behold the
Mass / extinction / The sins / of our fathers / return to us / for our love / was imperfect / the imperfection was such
that all the sands are turned to glass,
making ghost the futures of our past
and as recognition dawns, wearily and dim,
we will yearn in agony for palaces of bliss

Suffer through the ending
The never-ending ending
Repeating inverse decimal
Inevitable in retrospect
The black seed of undoing
moves through you even now
razing the world
in its own non-image
Transformations / you endure / are but shifting veils / that surface in the wake / These memories / you form / are but sugar / for your dying brain

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