Our minds are dying

Decaying in the vast continuum of time

Perishing in the slivers of broken universe

Blood seething from fractured thoughts

Silver patterns dancing underneath shadowed souls

Splintered essence crying in an empty hurricane

Black stars sway in ancient vertigo

An endless grey scream pounds against unseen walls

White noise penetrates the soundless waves of agony

Bruises shatter faceless creatures

Nightmares moan in hollow days

Depression punctures deep gashes

In our dying minds

The Grey Continent


Souls walk on the Grey Continent with unheard steps

From forlorn avenues vacant in dusty lavender 

Through burred roads stretching into faded horizons

On highways lost in grey wind

Past boulevards of colorless violets and charcoal roses

Through sidewalks littered with fragmented dreams

And lanes splintered by memories tossed aside and crumbled in corners

The souls are noiseless and the Grey Continent quiet

No one notices as they lace through our world of deafening color

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