Silver and cold,
The timeless and the time yet left to be molded,
In that time do we yet understand the passing things we reap and sow,
Every word we say, speak and shout knowing it can breakdown raise up and utterly destroy to causing blood to flow,
Even in present do we not see it, Yet every-time we feel it we breathe it,
The tears scream it, The mind runs and endless maze of It down every path a "F@@@ It"
But every future I see is silver and cold, that thier is Truth in silver a Truth that all things end, Cold that I see no future for anyone and especially...not for myself.
But fight I must for that future,
I have to scrap and cut and tear every day to make it a possible time a likely shutting of pain by suture,
I bound up every lost cause an every unsound word thats been made and stopped in mid sentence in a word paused,
In the end dealing with my it all in my life, I expect only two possibilities of my time left balancing Life & Passing balanced on the edge of a knife,
Silver in the end If I have lived a long life I hope to at least be 90, if Im lucky..
Or Cold I shall live to be the age of my Grand-Mother of my Mother, who lived to barely 56,
So, Silver and Cold
A long ending.....or a short one
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