.

it's all smoke
in my view now
not much to see, but light. far off.
i'm differentiating between machinists
and watchmakers(stop me if i'm being vague)
a candle left on the shelf
lost its glow after two weeks, fourteen days.
the scent still lingers, heavily, in dessicated air
still though. continued on this line
the balance strikes matches with the bullets
of retribution, in-cognition, frailness, damp weather
soft crescendo as your main character takes its
last breath
last remaining bow. lights dim.