Emptiness and nothing are what
fill up basins to the brim,
the over-existence of the light that's
always shining down on him,
there's nothing in grey the sky that's a
single point of life every
sound that's made is just
the man as he is falling down...
Standing parallel to silence every
movement will disturb the dust,
that is ashes over time collected by
the gods of ancient worlds and
nothing is the outcome of the
single movement made as
tears are slowly falling and
gravity is laid to falter and break...
Floating,
our souls as they leave...
Molding,
our collective personalities...
Speaking,
in the windy worn and whispers...
Creaking,
opening these broken doors...
Spiraling to the endless state of
oblivion and entropy as
abiogenesis creates this
shaken reality we know...
Standing always upside-down the
introverted winds of insanity are
blowing past abandoned cities that
no-one knows why they are, dead...
Population zero made to
die because of this flow or the
lack there-of it would always seem to be...
...here...
Eyes begin to open in the
single hour known to him as the
space between the dusk and dawn
slowly start to break him down!
Forever always standing there and
never moving, not a hair he
fails to feel emotion-ed strain but
constantly he feels this pain!
Breaking this world down!...
Smog
clouds
fog down
break this
world now,
only
this man
knows what
happened
but he
is dead
inside...of his head...
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