Wake up, they say. Nothing gold stays. But I no longer want to be the thunderstorm that rages; for their words leave me feeling cold, empty, and hectic…

Troubled times, with cosmic rays. Seems I found the space, where folks like to chew their brains. But these virtual persecutions no longer concern me. I’d rather be the fidlar on the roof; that the world just lets be. I’m exhausted and nauseated from this long life of plights. I no longer care to figure out, what’s wrong or what’s right. I once had a plan. A dream I held in my hands. But others thought a different way. They turned their backs, left me holding lonely dismay. I’m still locked outside, in the riddles of dark. Only this time, I don’t care, I hope mankind loses its spark. A different reaction for different people no longer applies. Those once that were special in my eyes, now blend with the filth, and has become apart of humanity’s lies…Goodbye…

-HMG