CHOICE DRAMA

 

Eventually all things go thread bare
In their nakedness.
we see the ghouls  of time.
Termiting their way through .
Like an old man 

With his walking stick 

Toddling to this moment 

from the past 

if it has to be
From a million clones 
Then, there is a choice
No matter the bloom the doom awaits.
Like a flower ,
Every blossom carries the seed of wilt.
Each day using its life to die.
Each piece will end up in pieces.
No matter the brightness ahead.
Every tunnel has a Darkness within.
That never leaves.
Everything is ending...
Right from the beginning...