It could have been anyone,
but it was me.
Why was it me, and not somebody else?
It was her, and not another.
It was him, and he was the one chosen.
And they all leave behind trails like the burning paths of stars
Blazing streams of light all across the universe, some brighter than others
Starting where someone else left off.
Countless bands, yet each one individual
Embossed by the blackness all around, while others fade away
Faint retrospections that are almost lost, adding gray to the blackness
In ever darker shades, colorless centipedes.
Some have with them fire, and with victorious sparks
Light into great blue flames the struggling light gray shapes, in the dawn of their time
Their time, which has an end
An end in the endlessness of eternity.
So all I can do is cut out a door right in the middle of the floor
Because I refuse to look up and see the sky.
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