Not appropriate? When is appropriate? The world dies and we light our own on fire. Our hearts no longer burn with passion, but instead lust for power. Death, death overcomes us all at "appropriate" times. The ones dying to fly away, regret fullness swarms them all. Standing by watching as their own soul lights with fire, beautifully distracting from the pain that's actually around. Souls broken, wills gone. Empty shells of bodies sit and speak in robot motion only doing the expected. Fake is the new real. Figures of the imagination. Fools fall for the illusion of life, in the end crushed by reality. Lifeless and left for dead. Life is death, death cannot be overcame.