and end all.
That can ruin everything,
run us over with it's heavy tanks.
Like the chocolate,
at the bottom of your cup.
Bittersweet ending,
to us all.
Like a pathetic pigeon,
who knows his fate.
As he pecks the ground,
scourging for his last meal.
For he knows a lifetime
is short.
Struggle just this one more time,
before giving up; alone and cold.
The silent killer,
that eventually gets the best,
of us all.
The old man, in the corner,
tells of his grief and triumph.
He has acquired his knowledge
through his many days of endless torture.
Through the different times,
different struggles,
he has gained more than he
bargained for.
Time.
Reincarnation and passing,
new lives, new passions.
Yet it still stays the same.
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