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Dragging days, lasting pain, ending hope.
Waves of neon like strings flow from the side of his brain to the next, casting shadows.
He has no idea as to what is to come
and he does not enjoy it
he feels as if he's running on a treadmill all the time
getting nowhere
whilst memories fly past his subconscious
so does the joy from his grip
With all this time
he only knows to indulge in past
Everything's a crime
His sanity will not last
His body like led, his brain like sludge
his eyes heavier
then the mass of the sun
Pain burrows in the depths of his tissue
Dull to sharp
Suddenly his world flashes to an all new reality
He suddenly finds himself sitting on a bench
watching a duck float across the pond
gliding effortlessly
He can't take his eyes off the creature
He sits and stares until darkness falls and he is the only soul in the park
He'd walk home, but he sees no point
The pain in his joints are far too severe
Perhaps I shall die here
The boy said to whatever would listen
Perhaps the winds shall take my life away
Or the cold air
Or perhaps......I'll just go home
and the boy went home.
