Every day is a withering, every night is a solace.

Can you imagine staring at a wall, Seeing the dust gather up and your reflection drawl.

Can you live a life of stagnation where the only progress is the incoming end of it all.

What is a stick, other than two points diametrically opposed.

What is life but the journey of the eventually disposed.

What is purpose to a person who cant see yesterday or tomorrow.

What is meaning to those who see it all go by in the blink of an eye?

Joy and sorrow, the most bare bone truth that humans have borrowed.

Whether it be sex, murder, drugs and alcohol, or the absence of it all.

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Every human, from time immemorial must surrender to their call.

Every day is a reminder, every night to forget, every life is equal, you are a worm and an insect.

You are not special, you are a pet, you are a vermin, you are regret.

You are someone's shame, you are their blame, you are also someone that hands out such claims.

You are not a disease, you are a blowing breeze, a harmless self important wheeze.

When you die, a million years will pass by, you wont be there to cry when your bloodline runs dry,

You wont be there to realize that your life was a lie, that you held onto things that were destined to fly.

You will not be there to regret, you will not be there to fret, you will not be anywhere but in the ground decomposed and dead.

Move on by not moving, let go by holding on, so on and so on.