...of time before we fade out.
Thoughts invoked the seeker, and clarity made him a non believer. It was only a matter of time before the vibrance transcended to black and white. In his short coming he stood high upon his mountain, the silence wielded no beauty, and the rain was the only thing to grace his face and hands. In a sense chewing his own thoughts, his own words, only to spit them out, knowing IT will never be the same. Without a doubt, he could die, leaving behind a requiem only justifying he made an attempt and tried.
