Ultha
To the Other Shore of the Night
Seemingly silent and still, nightfall tightens the tourniquet of concern even further
Squeezing thoughts into choices measured on my three-fingered hand
My heart doesn't beat like before, crooked and cuffed to the floor
Forget everything and remember: As another passing phase on the way to the grave visions start to skew and life will always provide one last chance to get it all wrong