Disheartened

I slowly walk from the room knowing its the last time I shall see his face
Sadly, this story is over
I knew it had to end, knew it would come one day
However that knowledge doesn't make it any less painful

I'll remember him always
in the depths of mind, in the dreams of slumber
wherever the world takes life, so he shall be there
on the edge of existence

the room fades to black
the short gasps of breathe fill the darkness
the reality of this begins to take shape
yet how much more could one endure?
how much more can one suffer?

pulling away was the hardest thing to do
yet sometimes the own state of your existence becomes more important than another
with insanity creeping up on your mind like a sick little creature
showing its power, taunting you
making a choice is the only option you have
no longer is this a game that takes willing participants

blindness
it happens to us all
accepted and noted
understood to say the least

where now?
no idea
He'll show me the way, He always does


Note: these are just words, not really about anyone in particular - its what came out while I was listening to La petite fille de la mer by Vangelis