Walking dead through smiling crowds of strangers.
Starving on a bellyfull of warm feeling and indifference.
Bland, empty indecision calls itself, hides itself in fear and comfort.
Aching eyes watch shadows play out hollow stories of the Secret Kingdom.
Unable to turn away from promises made and lost, faces burned and lost, keys dreamed and lost.
Keys to a secret that never made sense.
As sense is lost in feather light beatings, unable to stop the inexorable cadence of my own walking death.