Roaming

here we are all alone, each of us a dry,    dead             bone. NOTHING left to loVe or haTe                          a barren wasteland of empty fate desperation and lack of Hope, futilely climbing an endless rope............................................................................................................................. a rope to nowhere an endless struggle ... 2two thoughts of action which we must juggle: Should we continue and pursue our goal? Or just return to our desolate hole? This, our hole .                   of many damned souls, .                   of which we are familiar .                   and hopelessly stroll . .