The steady burn I yearned for once, seems dim.
Like a candle flickers, holding on to it’s last breath
I wonder where it came from, this draft.
Feeling unsteady
I see a fugitive running, trying to escape the undeniable fate that awaits him.
What a waste of time this is.
More life, more lonely nights
This is what I need.
I think.
Hunched under a floorboard of an abandoned house
He rests.
anticipates
Those sirens will drown out soon
He thinks he will see better days.
He fools himself.
consciousdownpour 