Waste

The landscape of beings

Are constantly competing

This void in my chest

Is aching to expand

Beyond what I understand

We move in slow succession 

And it painfully unravels

Every sacred thread

Memories reduced to shadows

When we pull back the lens

Nothing is left

Time, ever moving forwards

Taking captive moments left, unfelt

Hours ticking onwards

With bloody knees and aching feet

It must go on

We move in slow succession 

And it painfully unravels

Every sacred thread

Memories reduced to shadows

When we pull back the lens

Nothing is left