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?