eridanus
We almost had it all. What happened to us, when did it all go so wrong. Those dreams of marriage and children, a happy life in a home all our own; when did that dream die?
Swept up in the flow of time, I am carried ever swifter toward the end. The days grow shorter, regrets: longer and more ingrained. Where does the time go, what happened to the endless days of childhood when the whole of the world seemed as if it would go on forever.
The final words, the name on the headstone. Stripped of all context, all memory and life; all that remains at the final tolling of the bell. Cold stone upon chisel, the cosigner of souls, the ghost writer closing every tale.
final, the harbinger of the end; heavy handed horsemen, impartial judge. When we take the final step, what was the point. Desire held in vain, swept up in the relentless flow of time.