I can see you,

But I cannot feel you,

I hear you,

But I cannot be with you,

A tortuous game we do play,

And everything feels not quite the same.

To be, or not to be,

we are in-between.

A limbo.

Living a life incomplete,

seeing things

we can’t quite reach.

The end is near.

They say,

and we… cheer?

No, we protest!

And we fear.

The tales they spin,

the mistakes and their sins

Seem to multiply.

 But we just lie,

and wait,

and quake.

Idly.

The end is near,

but our fate, is still unclear.