The past is an opaque glass
something I can see but never get through
the longer I look the less I see
but no matter when I look I find you

this universe is centered around my feet
revolving creating dust from stone
nothing I see is from your eyes
and knowing I never will, hits cold bone

my feet only run as fast as my legs
but my stamina controls them too
A thick fog inside my ill and blinding mind
I breathe in smoke hoping to make it though