The nameless lie
An infinity of unspoken truths and anecdotal melancholy
Stones of yesteryear
Eroded by sandblasts of ice and wind
Only to be usurped by mold and moss in the blazing solstice
We can only die once
Are we already dead, mystified
By our own betrayal
Its permanent chastity belt
Which cute our screams off at the thought
Stillborn from the very start
Given the impression that I mattered
To be alone, die alone, unexist alone