The I left behind
The ever fading I of the moment
The I shifting and bending
Into the horizon of the unknown
The hollow presence
Of those we never became
The ones slaughtered.
The I left behind
The ever fading I of the moment
The I shifting and bending
Into the horizon of the unknown
The hollow presence
Of those we never became
The ones slaughtered.
The I left behind
The ever fading I of the moment
The I shifting and bending
Into the horizon of the unknown
The hollow presence
Of those we never became
The ones slaughtered.