I wanted to write about walking away the two of us, fading away from each others view I'd decorate it in poetry as if it were anything more than another premature ending but all I'm left with is shrines in the form of mixtapes and days spent wondering what it would feel like if I was still in the backseat of your car instead of sitting upright in the passenger side of his he says he likes the song I'm playing but I think he'd hate it if he knew it's just another epitaph for the nights I spent with you
. Something beyond, To climb into cloud, Into the snows of purity, To touch the rise of sun, Golden as it bathes us, To realize all is small Underneath, and all Is washed by streams Of blood from the skies, To reach the highlands, Plateaus in the heavens, This is the only poem, A great blue mountain, Something beyond, For us to climb. .
...and in the silence of that scene the pause between the tears unseen the rain Roy tells Deckard of the beams of the dreams of the things he wouldn't believe now all the words have lost their rhyme like hope sublime did he run out of life or run out of time