The remnants of plausibility needs no boundary, closed to possibility there is no longer a fine line between this passion and darkness. Swept in the chill of all phrases there is none to be unearth, none to be cordially caressed or soulfully sung. In this night, darkness and fame only stand, leftovers of past claims and future drains, the emptiness deafening to the current state of silence leads only back to this unlawfully soul, a spirit that one had never wished for, hoped for or even simultaneously imagined. The presence of nothingness burns to the core, providing no room for rebirth. This incrimination of life finds no peace of mind or centers filled with value. The absence of integrity shines in the shadows and only bears yet another conclusion, false hopes perhaps. There is no tangible way to say this, so in an effortless fashion “you’ve lost one”, and that would be the only resolution, producing such a conclusion bringing nothing but the illusion that you ever had one, me, in the first place.
-EH
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