as i dash veridian across an empty sheet of papyrus ,
i reminisce a faint memory.
i remember my friends of whom sat beside me as we rapped along to the song remember the name
clear blue skies or tinted overcast, i remember that it had indeed been the best days of my life.
now as the days flash before me turning into weeks and months like the flip of a page of an old vatican diary.
i dream each night of the times when we were masters of our life.. no bonds .. no tight schedule..just a limitless bus card and wishful thinking..both of which are items of the past..
the days are short..
yet i can see no end to this purgatory...
drop by drop as it slips away ...
no longer vivid.. no longer real...
like a spiral , webs of memories are sucked into small glass capsules..
achievements quantified by pieces of paper..
now as competition reaches breaking point..
the new team advance on unconquered territory with their rifles pointed ahead and their pistols to the temple of the guy next to you.
the piece of paper now filled with colour ages from within..
and begins to crack..
a spill of alcohol and a concentrated beam of warm afternoon sun..
all the foundation and colour turn an awkward shade of umber...
what i will miss when this is all over...
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