One million swords,
One direction,
All unsheathed, pointing, directing,
One object, in the center.
Time ceases to exist,
A million shards,
Spread out and still beating together,
Unable to be glued together again.
Listening to the music,
Watching the disco lights rotate and change,
Smelling the fresh food in your plate,
You're outside the party hall, watching your friends have fun through the window.
The breeze in your face,
The stars shining from above,
The city lights spread out before you,
You're watching the peaceful view all alone.
The earth's gravity pulling you,
As you fall toward the bright lights,
No cushion to save you,
And then you realize-it's not a dream.
The screams of surprise, shock, and horror,
The red-and-blue lights flashing,
The white cloth,
Your vision blurs.
The end.
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