On the path to my defeat, I brush the ashes of tomorrow, step onto the broken trails and dream my life of bright moments marred and too soon lost.

I mourn the things that can't be changed, all that has been and gone forever; I try to grasp the sands of time - my own mortality urging - in feeble hands that shake with the tremor of tears suppressed and fears to come...

In the darkness behind my eyelids, universes unfold and disperse in minute eternities and die in bursts of light - golden and dusty and warm; destinies are woven and unwound in the expanse of a hummingbird's flutter of wings, and they crash into the nothingness of oblivion. And all things forgotten never were.