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Habit of Destruction

The end is always in sight, stretching from ourselves, down a tunnle towards a light. I am stepping through the tunnle, away from myself, towards a future where I have yet to stand. Shaking the past from my mind and my limbs, I climb my moutains in search of a peak, knowing that the clouds can only linger for so long.The inevitable is death, but the pressent is life, dancing on our tastebuds and flickering in our eyes. We extinguish the fires that others set instead of working to ignite our own in the minds of others. Smashing their dreams down, towards a a floor of nothingness to find out if falling forever is worse than shattering completely, taking pleasure in the lives that fall in our wake and doing away with the ones that rise to life before our eyes. The easier path is hatred, or so we whisper in the ears of the young so that they can continue our habit of destruction instead of building from ashes that we spread over the Earth. Build instead of burning, fires belong in our minds. Reach a hand back to those that fell in our rage, letting them grow from their end into a new beggining





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