Meaning

The inevitable doesn't sleep when we slumber.

It moves through the embers singeing what we love to its knees.

Doors stay closed,
blinds stay shut
and still its eyes can see.

Manufactured to blink
missing the days we've wasted

All that we weave is a moment never captured,
a kiss never given
and hopes drowning in the hast been.

We begin to see importance only when the moment is lost on us.

I can't close my door because to hide is to regret.

I have no regrets.
Only meaning.

Humanity has lost its feelings.