The weight of the truth crushes the breath from my lungs. Its presence lingered in the back of my mind for so long becoming just another cobweb overlooked in the corner. The buzz of its existence nothing more than white noise, so easy to ignore, as I basked in the false sun of delusion and pride.
But now there is nothing.
The final tear pools with the others at my side. The final breath whispers away as the last beat echoes, then fades.
And still it pushes, grinding me until there is only dust, specks of nothing left to the whimsy of the breeze, scattered to the four corners where no one will remember what used to be, or what should have been.
There is nothing.
No expectations. No preconceptions. No predestination.
There is nothing left,