Was this his fate?
Does your god make mistakes?
A splatter of cosmic ash orbiting naive minds
But what a god he was,
For no reason other than: simply because.
These were the razors that screamed through Charlie's brain,
Struggling to see headlights below, in his eyes' own rain
Tender face raw from New York's icy breath, it crumpled, like
fallen sheets, in the streets.
Didnt reach for the umbrella,
What was the point if he could never tell her?
Never hold her, never have his heart complete
Your god forgot him, the outcast, they could never ever meet,
Because she was never created, his loneliness filled with him with hatred.
He tore a ragged sigh,
A strange comfort in our will to die.
Twisted and turned in a deafening silence that
he had known too well - an isolated hell.
As he collided with gravity, it was comfortably numb
The sidewalk revolving like lava as the sensation rose.
But before his lights flickered closed
with the pain of each shattered bone,
In the corner of his eye, Charlie saw her:
The girl he should have known.