The feeling of sleep and sorrows
The dread of no man's land
Yet the descriptive of routinely closure
Comes with the fall
sometimes fleeting
Others drawn out suffering
Curt only to the forgotten
Only once you lose and feel everything slip
will it be quick
Neglect takes form and rends the loved
A tear reality and time stitch
to be recked by the rackled
til measure do its part
All are drifting