its late.
ignorance is a bliss
a dilusional bliss that brings you to the edge
of a bottomless abyss
you nescient being
deliberately evading the inevitable
postponing the unbearable pain
wrapped in your own infinitesimal existence
your shadow will your shroud
fallen deep under the debris of your own pretenses
is this what you live for?
solitary and forever reflecting on the what could've been
walking backward, unable to forget, yet reluctant to move on
imperfect metamorphosis in a metaphor?
now is the time to wax the seal
face to face and make a deal
so that everthing can be laid out in real
then it will be decided
whether it will stay true, or just ended
fated together or apart we tread
for once and for all
