Nearing the End

Fighting the night time sorrows
as we live day to day
in a house made of straw.

Thoughts begin to vaporize
the air I breathe,
weighing me down into the ground.
with hollow spectacles to grasp
a lost life.

Birds fly in the night time skies,
hovering like crows near death.
Doing nothing but staring at the
city burn around us.
Crumbling to the ground,
and draining into the gutter.

All I can do is wait till the end.

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