Where do they go when they fall off the edge of the world?
Out of sight, out of mind.
What a bullshit lie they tell.
I can’t forget that they fell.
Barreling to their demise,
Is how they meet their end.
Such a tragic reprise.
Their wounds are not mine to mend.
But how I wish I could lend them a hand.
Stretch out my palm towards theirs.
They would hold onto me and find a sense of security,
A fleeting moment of peace in a world of uncertainty.
They aren’t the first of their kind, nor the last.
A question has surely killed more than a gun.
They’re just another mind lost to doubt.
When you think, all you can do is run.
A question that spans over decades and echoes in their souls.
A promise that the truth will reveal itself repeats.
It never does, it’s a stranger you will never meet.
It’s just a matter of time till that final bell tolls.