Walk the sky. Stay slightly numb. Draw the line. Swallow your sins.
Deeper and deeper, as if diving into the ocean, colour yourself with liquified thoughts. Tread carefully, as you are walking on your own dreams and expectations.

Step by step, creeping closer, closer and ever closer, you approach the end of the line. Here is where you stop. Here is where your shroud is removed, to reveal just how uncertain you are about your own fate.

Your veins tattoed with all the words ever to be thrown at you, you listen to the beat of hearts. The sound reverberates off your very skin.

Paint yourself with the deepest of colours yet again. See how memories of past times bite into your flesh, slowly drinking your soul.

You wanted love. They wanted blood. Hopelessly devoted to reaching your dream unknown, you gave them solace. Though you know only of hell you gave them heaven to play with.

With a nimble step forward, as if floating through air, you pass the end of the line. Put on the shroud. Hide the paint with which a never to be looked upon masterpiece was made.

Day breaks. Sunlight on dry skin. Rain in tired eyes, burdened with sleepless nights. Lungs inhaling air just to moments later exhale fire.

Falling, the wind throws you away from the world you so desperately want to understand, into an endless chasm where emotion lights up the walls.

But it’s dark.

The lights won’t come on.

Walk the sky. Stay slightly numb. Draw the line. Swallow your sins.

It’s dark.

The lights are gone.