Whoa, you let your feet run wild
Time has come as we all go down
Knotted and coiled, nooses borne from inadequacies and defects, struggling to find the ways, the measures, the compelling instances to stay afloat. They both latched onto one, and his thoughts could churn towards souls, following that distant haze, that stream of light, not paralyzing, not mauling, not maiming, not pushing him down below the surface, to suffocate in his darkness. It burned at the back of his throat, her soul, gone and implacable, unless something happened, unless they plucked it from the brink of another’s clutches, unless there was another trial, another opportunity for things to go awry. “Yes,” he whispered in the columns and annals of the Temple, grasping her to keep himself from eroding, withering, decaying into pieces of ash, dust, and soot. They could grab them all – liberate and free.
The insistence of their actions when he was already burdened with happenstances clawed at him, layered into his chest and stole his breath, holding onto them but dreading it all. No escape, no time, no opportunities to do anything than suffer their losses, carry their dead, and get ready for the next wave, the next storm. “We do what we can,” he echoed, voice carrying the apprehension, the choking, suffocating stilettos down the breadth of his throat.
They would march on, staring demise straight in the face, again and again, only this time, without one of their own.
{FIN}
The insistence of their actions when he was already burdened with happenstances clawed at him, layered into his chest and stole his breath, holding onto them but dreading it all. No escape, no time, no opportunities to do anything than suffer their losses, carry their dead, and get ready for the next wave, the next storm. “We do what we can,” he echoed, voice carrying the apprehension, the choking, suffocating stilettos down the breadth of his throat.
They would march on, staring demise straight in the face, again and again, only this time, without one of their own.
{FIN}
Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—
Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?
DEIMOS
