Thoughts of
Crimson rivers shall run dry As crimson rivers do Shall I not leave a mess? My visage will be enough The distraught and the dread Of my loved ones Loved ones they are and I'm leaving them Because it's empty Not painful But the understanding that when I'm not here Nothing significant will change That's the nothingness of it Biological randomness it just is And nothing meaningful So in felt pain incessant Why endure?