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maybe one, maybe two, maybe even three or four years until death knocks on our door and all is sure to fall apart, we'll step on luna's bleeding heart, and all we know will crumble down into the depths of the dark unknown around our world on which we run in panic, screaming at the sky hoping for an almighty god to save us, and we wonder what we did wrong, we wonder what we did to deserve this, when in reality, our fatal flaw was our own ignorance. we were the cause. we were the creators of our own destruction, we built the foundation of a fallen future. and what will the universe care? who will remember us? who will tell their children of the great race that met its own demise time and time again until it finally buckled under the weight of its own history of failures?
no one.
the planets, the stars, the galaxies, the universe will continue to turn, in an endless dance in space of silence and grace, without a trace of who we once were. its not a nightmare. it might send a scare, but this is how it was meant to be, always and forever.
no one.
the planets, the stars, the galaxies, the universe will continue to turn, in an endless dance in space of silence and grace, without a trace of who we once were. its not a nightmare. it might send a scare, but this is how it was meant to be, always and forever.
