They scuttle to the winds,
Hiding beneath every excuse.
Seeped into blue goo,
Accepting of the eternal night,
Blessed through the sunlight,
Blinded by itself.
Rushing in a stagnate thought,
Fooled, creation of heavy hearts,
Broken hearts.
A future lead by the past,
The darker hues found below,
Hope died,
It lied.
Hindsight is the same,
Foresight binds the fate,
A present pleasant doppelganger.
A hidden hazard held close,
Who hand in hand,
Slowly warms the ice,
Blue goo, Blue goo?