The End

Upon this brittle path, we see the end. A broken bridge, that we cannot mend.. yet still we move on, still we tread. Down this narrow road, destined for something dead. But it is beautiful for a time. By emotions we are led. Infatuated by this drug like induction, possessed by pleasure, caught up by the corrupt heart's deception. We thought it was something grand, something beyond measure. we built this house on sand. built it upon pure intentions... purely physical and since our world breeds such trivial things, the skies flood our plains. We sink into the soil, the waters drown this small flame that once warmed us. we stand with brittle bones, one strong wind, a brief gust. Our bones beneath us are shivered like glass, we fall to dust. For this love, alas. Was tainted by the flesh, made weak by lust. We couldn’t have expected the drugs to last. We emptied this flask. Now keeping these weary eyes open, proves a difficult task. We have found the end, no more fire to warm us. This child died before it could live, and with it our intoxication. We proved that hope is a poison and not a form of medication so let this shimmer of hope die, Throw it to the dust, no more to give. but one last sigh...a sigh relief Forgive me as i must, withdraw your needle from my vein. Now i finally remember what it is to be sain

Desolate Places

The Wilsonville transit station feels like the beginnings of Silent Hill, or perhaps a town near by, that shall meet the same fate as Shepards Glen. Almost completely desolate of human life. a cold breeze that shakes the dried leaves, old music ringing from a metal box, and the constant metallic buzzing from some nearby industrial building. I'm just expecting a darkness to be cast and my hearts corruptions to take the form of some monster I must defeat. It’s merely the entrance to that place relating to Limbo.