brokenheart

Broken skyline, which way to love land?

It is the worst of times before the best of times, only I don’t think that the best times are even possible anymore.  I watch daily through my quarantined window as outside my city burns and goes dark.  Everywhere people are running scared, stockpiling greed to feed their fears.  The lines of society get more and more blurry with each passing day, leaving us isolated in our mutual collapse.  But all I can do is think about her. Rome may very well be burning, the flames encroaching closer each day.  The days of bread and games are fast fading in the rear-view mirror of now idle SUVs, ghostly reminders of what we once held, though we never quite realized just how tenuous the grip.  There are …

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