The End/Aftermath - Gloson

Sick steps dent the spine of the world

Tracing the path to the lighthouse

The fatalists wheel, set in it’s spin

For absent friends and withered futures

Hollow, but for the thirst

Follow, into the dead star

Eyes heavy with a thousand mile stare

Set upon the summit cloaked in onyx smoke

Billowing out like winded breaths

Pale white light escapes in pulses

As if set to the heartbeat of the earth

Hollow, but for the thirst

Follow, into the dead star

Hand over fist, jagged rock stigmata

Starlight and the crashing of waves

Topside, a step into the brightness then enveloped

At one with the dead star