I Am The Black Horizon

What we breathe are remains, the ashes of the means. What we took from our entire lives are the fleeting feelings, the dying dreams, uncertainties but not the tragedies. What we live for isnt worth living for, did we ever really live for us at all? We, the survivors, the few who traced the steps back to the shore, we will inherit nothing but our own tormented demons when everything is gone. We were born for epic endings and yet well go out like this.

We are our very own bullet-breaths as we wade on through the smoke. Id rather want a finish line than to burn in the brightest light, live from the bleak brink of the horizon to the scorching zeniths height, I want to live through these bleeding days but theyre coming back, the ways of old, time-tried and cold, theyre coming back.