Purple

As I sit in front of the computer, eyes locked on the ubiquitous flashing cursor, my numbing brain slides hauntingly closer to the inevitable realization of inadequacy. While words jumble, writhing and churning through the unfathomable spider-silk of my cerebellum, an idea withers, trapped on a single silver fiber as many glinting eyes stare lovingly at their next meal. Bitter food for thought in a darkly famished world. Scanning the fortitude of satirical ballads, we have fallen, corpses under the blood-bright light of the reddening sun. Unworthy as we are, we fade away. Apathetic apoplectic people merging, endless mixers in a churning vortex, tiny pinpoints of light in an otherwise star starved sky. Desecration in a sterile world.