Our erstwhile companions, singing songs together in the distance.
Of broken times today, those they lived yesterday,
and those we shall live tomorrow and next.
Our erstwhile companions, regaling themselves of our memory.
We remember their face, their musk, their voice,
but can no longer remember their faults.
Our erstwhile companions, as bulletproof as thin air.
Neither damaged or pristine, omnipotence abiding,
they can hear us but cannot listen.
Our erstwhile companions, blowing diamond dust into our eyes.
Disguising the other side, while damning our own,
we are truly the demented race.
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