Winter-Cranium

I see upon a hill, the setting sun, fleeing from the night... The moon coming above that horizon for the kill, to rise and banish to darkness all light. Though time brushes over creation, I live on, a slave to immortality. Though I was the choser of my own damnation, Twas humanity that was the cause of my brutality. Now the world around me decays, unlike my flesh and mind... Time has left my future in a haze, and the changing world has been unkind. I see upon a hill, but another slope downward, where the pointless  journey continues on... unto to no end is my existence forever moving forward Nostalgia is dead, as my past is for

Ask the sun if he has room to shine and he will regard you, distantly, ticking it over in his behemoth mind. He will tell you that he has space to spare but that nothing is with him there. His bed has no blankets or sheets. He has no closet with shoes for his feet. He tells me he mourns the twin he never had, and the grandchildren who never plucked at his coattails with grubby fingers and cried for him to come play. He misses the kisses of imaginary lovers. Listlessly, he tells me of immortality and celestial Midas' curse. But where is the tragedy? I persist. What about the company of other stars? He asks me, in return, if I've ever tr