not much to do
just picking fragments of reality
vastly instituted in pain
in order to luminate the skies
taking a stroll
in a dark alley again
not much to do
just harnessing the celestial spheres
wasting some dying galaxies
preparing the unavoidable
buying some bread and butter
from the local store
not much to do
just exploring time in a behavioral way
to make it appealing
to death
anxiously talking to some friends
amidst laughter
not much to do
just writing words depicting life
so that we are not frightened
by the mirror
the music died
media player has stopped working
not much to do
before the end
that draws near
