Life was once a flare. The choices we made had a reason &
everything else fell into different places. Like love and its
twisted demise. The rope we followed when night came without
a warning. Without even a star, or a sunset.

Believing became an untrustworthy mission. Through your eyes,
you see that you've been down this certain road before. A tunnel
leading west, into the greedy fields of old dirt & gravel. Through
the beauty, that has now become a plague, a shiver & a cough.

The next step is the future. An undeniable identity, given to us,
centuries ago. When the birds, had a life in the winds. When the
pain didn't come from verbal assumptions. When the choices we
made, good or bad, gave life some flare.