Bitter, yes. When the sky told us so, one thing couldn’t be done but more worth our time. Memories preserve what we’ve left behind, mind lets us gaze the probabilities ahead
now the light is fading, the pebbles covered in mud, i’m looking for a stepping so i could walk the way they walk, but how? ever seen the angels? flapping their wing (so do i) to go through the clouds yet i sank here deeper. laws aren’t that absolute, just excuses that have been made by the antelopes so they could save themselves from the kings. if that’s the best way to live why they looked so damn shy to do it? life or pride they fancy the most? who made this pride exist, alchemist? making things from nothing like our lucks bursting out from nowhere, help us so we could barely breathe then make us tell the others how to breathe. pencils are made to prevent us from writing, microphones from saying it out loud, but this blackout helps us to see things clearer.