all for nothing

Ticking time bombs with tastes to match
Trying to survive, somewhere between salvation
And insanity
Picture this
Precious pockets of pictures and
Letters, in piles and litters
Treasured but naught
Tragedies are sad songs
Sang to the lure of the artist’s pain
Collecting bodies and keeping muses
Like flipping a coin with no faces

You’re as real as the reasons why
The gods keep us alive but,
I also made you up in my mind