sullenly waiting for an end

lost in the silence
before the rest of
the world has woken
lost in the thoughts
defining the twilight
of humanity’s fall

i can do nothing
to disrupt
the mute orchestra
as fingers strum
along tightly
strung ligaments
a soundless cacophony
between palpations

of every dream
left to rot
in the fetid dumpster
of predestined
uncertainties
seeking truth
amidst discarded
hearts and used
hypodermic needles

by definition
hope is the feeling
that what is wanted
can be had
and by actuality
hope is just
another fucking lie

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