Stuck in the silence in between my present self and a memory. Desperately trying to create a hero for a story that may never be told.
I can pinpoint the instant of uncertainty; driving towards a fabricated persistency just days after your final chapter. Of course I was absorbed in my thereafter.
Despite all your failure, success, and fear; in that moment you disappeared. Leaving me to inherit your dismay; a melancholy filter over the standard display.
A selfish thought towards a selfless love; had two brothers, now I barely have one. Constantly reminded of lifeβs impermanence while searching for a perpetual state of purpose.