Roaming
here we are
all alone,
each of us
a dry,
dead
bone.
NOTHING left
to loVe or haTe
a barren wasteland
of empty fate
desperation
and lack of Hope,
futilely climbing
an endless rope.............................................................................................................................
a rope to nowhere
an endless struggle
...
2two thoughts of action
which we must juggle:
Should we continue
and pursue our goal?
Or just return
to our desolate hole?
This, our hole
. of many damned souls,
. of which we are familiar
. and hopelessly stroll
.
.