Ironic, where you find yourself.
It’s the gates of hell, my only one truth.
An angel in the desert, out of reach and elegant with grace.
You’ll walk with a purpose and intent,
until the eons have erased your footprints
and you’ve spent an eternity building nothing.
A life spent wasted, you’re the bearer of guilt.
Crippled by the weight of burden.
Embrace this realization.
You’ve walked until your feet bled.
You’re just an angel in the desert. I had dreams too.