It is as it was. There is neither reckoning nor solace. This burden is mine alone.

It’s been called by so many names that it has forgotten its own.

Shrouded, leering figures teeming with warmth.

But they must be right!

Soon turning upon me, is this love?

Back to the old-self, rummaging those streets devoid of existence.

Forgotten airports with no exits turning upon themselves.

Already fading these echoes of awakenest of worlds.

I am still shivering, and I know I should not.

Tears conjoined as if for a nightmare forgotten;

If your dreams can’t accept you, no one will.