Time wears me down in it's slow constricting embrace. Time wears me down beauty captures me enraptures me past any recognition. My heart stolen and gone. I try to care I try to care and it all dissolves in this dance this wicked wicked waltz of the denial of my own death. I feel it coming, I feel it approach, like a fleet footed beast of burden crashing down the doors of my consciousness.
Death is the end.
Birth is the start. I can always leave the game, quit the field. We aren't permitted that small release. They asked me to probe my depths, to bring what I saw in them out. And I go back to the trenches, the muck, the mire, and I ask why why why and all I get in return is the echo of my own voice.