(no subject)
sometimes when i close my eyes i just see the buildings crumbling and the earth swallowing itself until there's nothing but silence so thick it's deafening.
strive to create beauty and be steamrolled by the howling wolves in the plot.
everything fades to little pinpoints of light, the giant crush of matter compressed into touching friction
architecture is a term for a defiant attempt at immortality, but everything built will one day be laid low. plans and stratagems, all the worlds best loves and villains reduced to coffin dust.
wounded little bits of words like dead fireworks everywhere. these are your ideas in the burial vault. and it's impossible to be good, to cherish hope.
strive to create beauty and be steamrolled by the howling wolves in the plot.
everything fades to little pinpoints of light, the giant crush of matter compressed into touching friction
architecture is a term for a defiant attempt at immortality, but everything built will one day be laid low. plans and stratagems, all the worlds best loves and villains reduced to coffin dust.
wounded little bits of words like dead fireworks everywhere. these are your ideas in the burial vault. and it's impossible to be good, to cherish hope.