“A blade in the dark is a gift to the damned
Assassins and mercs make their case at the break of day
The nights betrayal a thing to keep the devil at bay
May the words of wisdom find those that look on with hopeful gaze
Whilst the pillars of blood upon which they stand are kept appeased
Tricks of the light and slight of hand will amaze
To see what demons do in the moment of absent attentions
Will amaze you even more”
Time is a cruel bitch of a moment that creeps up on me as I stare the hands of a clock into blissful nothingness, there use to be an hour beyond that fated tick of a tock but there ain’t no such haven in the minutes that carry over from the tock into the tick. A blink is the passing of a second in the hint of darkness as into sleep we enter a deeper dark of forgotten seconds, amassing wealth’s of seconds into a collection of regretful loss to the cost of wasted breathes.
I’m meant to know what I’m writing, something logical to the point of current thoughts, but I have no fucking idea!
The shadowy hand of depression creeps abound as around the fortifications of my fated rest I see the bleak in assaulting form, will the fractured walls hold, will the fractures of times passed in regretful history prove an inevitable foresight of the fall that will come to pass.
Or I could just go to bed, sleep and hit the day a fresh, sounds like that might half decently work actually so what the hell ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ