Night Sky

Small lights and sparkles.
Like falling into the endless sky.
Falling, falling -!
The world steadies itself around the wall he’s leaning on.
The world has been converted into a night sky.
The world is a night sky and one star is dead.
The star he used to call Donatello no longer shines.

Vague shapes and figures.
Regaining sight, no.
Gaining inner sight, for a horrible price.
The world centers itself around the slipping soul he’s latching onto.
The world shifts and swirls.
The world is a hurricane and its eye is dead.
The eye he used to call Splinter no longer blows.

Dust and despair in the air.
Breaking apart what should be together.
Farewell to family.
The world winds itself around the breath he’s dangling on.
The world has spinned until it tied into a coil, and nothing can move now.
The world is a snake and its prey is dead.
The prey he used to call Casey no longer breathes.

Loneliness.
Loneliness.
Loneliness.
The world impacts.
The world squeezes.
The world is a black hole and anything that’s sucked in is dead.
The anything he used to call hope no longer is.

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