Depression or worse, there is nothing definable about the death of those unavaenged. The loss of a soul loving and giving. Is there any excuse for these martyrs? The ones who got caught up in the glitz of the unsustained glamour of what shouldn't ever be because it can't ever be. Forever is just a word untranslatable to reality, but a lifetime is closer to perfection than the sliced in quarter tragedy that my fellow Welleslians have sustained.
Do not blame their minds. Nor the demons that coheresed them to let go of the mortal coil. Do not blame them when you feel cold and awake in bed. It's not just them you know, it's me too. It's not just us you know, it's a world of ill-suited heroes borne.
Tell me god, how do we honor them?
And just when you think you've gotten it all figured out, life throws you a curve ball. Never what you expected, but it alway fits in a one line cliche. You think of the worst, you think of the best, you never think of this.
No comments:
Post a Comment