Waiting for the perfect moment
To hold it in my arms
A change in pace
A feather in the wind
A glimpse of the future
All there to help the growing pulse of my heartbeat
The moment is in the future
It is in the past
It is the ever growing and ever learning Earth
The moment waits for the perfect time to strike
And when it does
The world suffocates under strangling grasps.
As much as I don’t want it to be true, it is.
Time is running out. Soon we will all be one of the Fallen.
There’s nothing we can do to stop it. Its arrival feels rushed, but at the same time—too far away.
Looking back at it now, I know that it could’ve been different. I could’ve been different. Instead of turning away, I could’ve yelled: “Come back!” I could’ve changed the events that followed when I turned away. But instead, I gave up.
Prologue: The memories
There were memories.
Vague ones, but memories nonetheless.
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