Within a gradual greyscale decline
an actual continuation of
of what?
certainty?
an abstract definition of loss?
And maybe
I’m alone at sunrise
peeking at a horizon that simple isn’t mine to have
looking up at a sky I can’t own
knowing I will keep striving and
lusting for the happiness
Now fast forward and my
soul feels like a forgotten effigy
declining thoughts in an echo chamber
of decay and darkness
And the soundtrack is a symphony of my melancholic self obsessed egotistical depression
its a chequered flag of the last lap
last opportunity
before out, out, out.