Beyond this moment, lost and grieving
This world turns forward, folding through time.
If we stayed, this weakened state
We would loose, frozen in ourselves
Lost to the civilizations around us.
Yet what can we do?
Stop the turning? Refuse to move?

What is it that we need to move forward with the turning of
Time?
Is it love, kindness?
Or perhaps ourselves, strength from within.

As it is, the world holds not a hand of kindness
But cruelty to knock us down to the flaming depths beneath.
To scorch and burn us. It will not let go.
Only those with power enough to climb above,
Only they will live within the folding of the earth.

So what of the rest of us? Do we simply disappear?
That cannot be!
Are we not just as important as them?
We have not wings to fly
So who will help us, we who despair?
Those of us who struggle, gasping, chocking down the Styx river.
Where do we go in this vast emptiness?