It's not possible that he's gone.
The sky, so grey and so low to the ground today, doesn't feel full of possibilities but overcrowded with unreached goals.
Satisfaction, so fleeting.
Every second, single file and marching in this war. Against me? With me? I am too slow, too weighed down. I climb over the wall and see a thosand more ahead.
Today is the thing I wish were dead. Yet it lives on and meets me in my tired state again and again.