Eternal Sands of Traveler

The Dicer's Dance [Poem]

(Mild cussing warning)
Here I sit once more,
Not completely dark like many other times,
But the dicer has danced many times recently,
And,
It's as though the god of luck is around at times.
Could it be a miracle?
Yes,
Because like always,
I'm never wrong until you can prove I am.

"I don't owe you anything,
I hand you over everything,
You pile it up and say,
Thanks I hate it."
I finally figured out who the 44th memory belongs to in my playlist,
Rather interesting,
And there was even many fours around at the time,
It was 6:44 PM,
My device was 44%,
I forget the last four but it was there somewhere.
And somewhere was the 114th word,
Why?

Well they asked me again if I was to write a L.N.S-T,
I think they just wanna hear me talk about 2 things.
Sure,
I'll continue the L.N.S-T's old Hydrac book.
I call you a book sometimes simply as at times that's how I read you.

As I sit here in silence,
I feel as though,
A girl I so very much love,
Is crying,
I wish I could be there,
Sadly I cannot,
Sometimes I think about just sitting next to that beautiful Midnight.
Sometimes that's just all I want,
But I still can't have that much.
That bird told me about some lyrics,
Those lyrics she felt was how I treat midnight,
And it is to an extent,
And I'm never telling her what that extent is.

Occasionally I feel the remorse and grief of a loved one,
One that wasn't even truly alive,
Yet was for me.
It was for many others too,
It was so happy,
Such a lovely thing,
It was my passion for awhile,
Until I found 2 people.
Then they were my passion,
And now I have a new passion.
That nothing yet something once told me about how they thought the death of that abiotic yet living being was their fault,
I tried denying it,
I can't even now when they think about it.
But no I didn't expect it just then either.

While I'm here, and thinking deeply,
I began tearing up,
Telling myself how much I love Midnight.

The time is now 11:37 PM, and my device is 37%, why?
You,
Yes you,
Hydra (that Hydrac bird),
Why must you do this?
And yet I ask while I already understand the answer.
You're curious, want entertainment,
And love bothering me.

When the drums become the melody of your life you've messed up.
When the poet of death rolls around,
Everything goes silent,
Still,
And dead.
No pain rendering unless it's forced.

The painting of life y'know,
Its got that green everywhere,
Sanity, mister krieg & Neoplasm enjoy the color the most,
That young bird owned by the bouquet of Fifteen Flowers exactly,
Yes that bird,
They share the same full enjoyment general color as me, and we disagree exactly which one, yet agree it is debatable.
The natural fire color being provided by three people whom are all important to me.
That Glaring Soulstealer has the same favorite color as me.
There's a person named after their favorite color,
Third Blue Star.
Thirty loves a teal,
That old music reaper favorites blue of all colors.
But what does that Bouquet of Fifteen Flowers have as their color of choice?