#&queue

Hope, something so frail, but with so much meaning. That’s why it’s the most terrible thing in the world - its hand guides us through moments when we’re slipping out of its embrace, and yet…

We are merely puppets, our fate is guided by something we cannot see. The strings snap; leaving us shattered on the ground, forever broken. It’s a long fall, and yet…

Betrayal, forgiveness, a precious balance in this world. Once again the jaws lock tight, leaving you staggering, and in the end you let the current take you. We are blind in our own selfish cruelty, plummeting into an endless voice, peeking from the shadows to see the light.

Hope lost, sinking into the gloom. A thing so dear we don’t realize its worth until we lose it, lost forever, gone..

This is all a dream, and we create it. Does that not mean we get to end it? When the curtains finally fall, hiding the empty stage, silence not broken by even so much as a whisper, even the wind dares not roam the bare theatre, once so full of life and promise of the future to come.

I’m slipping, ice beneath my feet. Slipping from reality, dreams, muffled by the sound of shovels biting into the frozen mud, forever hiding those who have ceased dreaming, embracing death’s cold wings…