his eyes have tunneled through a mountain of time one hundred years wide. his frame is cracked and dusty. a water stain lines the bottom of his tie and stretches to the elbows of his jacket's sleeves. the suit is ruined.

but the eyes. the eyes remain fixed on some unmet goal - a fire that still flickers across my yellow wall at night.

and i have felt their jealous stare drilling holes in my complacency as i sit in my room and wait for dreams to come to me. wasting chances that he never had. and the mournful fire burns on and never dies - a widow to his dreams.

and i sit. and i stare back at him - my destiny. my dreamless desolate nothing.

current music: mars ill