Somewhere along the road to the end of existence,
I lost my way among the heathers which stab into your soul,
Bleeding a memory of where I was before,
I stretched my arms into a setting sun burning with the tears of tomorrows,
There are faces, in the dirt that contort with fear and terror,
The sky begins to moan and i stumble,
You're standing above me with a maleficient gaze that pierces through my indiscretion,
Remembering glass shards stuck in my arms,
From a passing exploding friend becoming a starburst with one final desperate lunge into infinity,
And there's blood on my shoes,
And my arms are scarred from the thorns of the heather,
And i realize i took the wrong road down a field that has no path,
So I take out the spines fashioning a scythe to wreathe my way home,
But, I'm too far in and everytime I swing I get snagged,
So I wait for a help that won't come in an overgrowing farmers field with a harvest moon, blood red and engulfing, taunting me with eerie light unnatural for this time of year,
Entropy awaits.
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