By cold and iron thought, so do I step forward. The warmth is taken from my day, and the cold has set deep in my bones. I waken each morning looking only to return to sleep, to the oblivion of dreamless thoughts. Upon waking, I see only tasks ahead of me, lacking that vital spark that did once make me wish to change things.
The flavor has left the food I eat, and all I taste is the ash in my heart. The once beautiful sunset holds no majesty for me anymore, for I cannot make my heart swell at its beauty any longer. The stars have lost their luster, no longer do they twinkle and shine for me and are but dots against the Stygian blackness of eternal night.
Once there was purpose in these hands. Once, great thoughts spun in this empty mind. Now as my hands lay idle, so does my mind churn forth the barest ideas, scant and forlorn to their previous power and ingenuity. No more.
My purpose is lost, my reason has faded from my mind. My soul has grown cold with the passing of time. I find no joy before me but yet another task that I have yet to do. One more thing, one more step, one more breath, one more day that has no purpose but to extend that which should have ended long ago.
The barest glimmer of hope only serves to drag me further along, but as each hope comes, so does it fade and another piece of my soul freezes in the bitter cold. Each bright moment that for a glimpse, shines like a diamond, its luster fades and the cold stone of truth lies where it once was so warm and bright.
As the silence echoes back the emptiness of my thoughts, so do I stride forward. Not with hope for a better future, but to seek an end. To find the last hope on the last shore, so that it too may wink out. So that the last bit of my soul does freeze and I will cease to care.
Nothing else remains for me but the shadows of thoughts, the ghosts of feelings long left forgotten. Time does indeed cure all wounds, for mine pain me no longer. Instead they are but lead weights that I carry with me, slowing my steps.
But with iron determination, I will still arise. I will seek that last light and watch it fade for there is nothing left for me to do. No purpose to fulfill. My race has been run, and yet I feel no honor at the last turns, the finish before me. I feel only the cold soul within me that simply wishes that the race had ended already.
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