I'm waiting, watching, seeing seconds tick by. Withering, wondering, but the question is why?
A tide is rising against me forcing an action, knocking and beating, mirrors shattered, refraction. I always stand up too late, already beaten and scarred, bleeding from wounds. Broken to shards, the dimensions await me as I pass through the gate. Waiting on the threshold knocking too late. Why did I come here? If so soon, I leave passing a tapestry into history's weave.
Fate can't guide you. I'm lost in this maze. Just one little thread holding me back wandering through this thick haze knowing that I can't find what I lack. For what I need is a reason to leave eternity. But I already left, yet too soon will be returning. I need a reason, but I can't find one. I just keep waiting, wondering, watching and withering; I'm waiting on a doorstep with darkness on each side. From birth to death, we can't stem the tide of blackened infinity that inside us hides each of us vessels of endless light, ready and waiting to be vanquished by night.