Radiance, torridity and stars exploding on the inside of your eyelids.
Symphonies of light and sound, and hell with it’s unwithstandable blazing.
Burning every piece of unimportance to nothing and leaving the metal structure of life raw and exposed.
Will you remember me when you face the sound and fury?
Even as the ashes and dusts return to oblivion and you face yourself with no masks, veils or biases, no opaque pretenses will you catch sight of my face in the flames?
When the transparent accumulation of your life is revealed to you will you cry for me?
Not so much me but for the person that I became for you.
Or maybe you will cry for the injustice of it all.
How all that I strove to accomplish was a failure from its inception.
You have gained the world, it falls at your feet.
I have known you through it all, this is my success.
You stand naked at the brink of triumph.
Flame has cleansed the insignificant away.
So I too will go.
Perhaps you don’t cry at all.
So utterly foreseeable is your unceasing apathy.