When Time essence looses the sweet serenity of its creation,
And moments run without your soul.
When loves turns morbid and becomes a heavy burden,
When trust is a dagger that hurts the palm that holds it,
When light reveals all the sad details ignorance conveniently banished,
When night rises with vices compounding faster than your heart can beat,
And your soul's voice is shut.
Then, lurking in the shadows of your thought,
You see that all you held dear
Fades into another plane
Your self dissloves
Into a lesser form.
Without a heart.
Without a vision.