Even black holes are distant nowadays.
Mere memories of whom they were,
Just less and less with every phase.
What's left, but from existence to deter?
Remnant radiation instills dreams that make me shiver in our past,
mutation to my deceptive remedy's appeal,
autocatalyticly inducing
self sustaining,
crudely poising,
mind corroding,
vicious, sweet, fictitious ideal.
Is there even a way to heal?
Or am i destined for this death?
to breathe my one last breath,
alone in space,
at last.
