They say man is imprisoned by legends and he seeks unity within his own legend. If I look at life, it slowly crawls towards the end of mine. Will it be the end of time or am I just a man out of time? Would you forgive me if it was the other way around? In either case, I am still watching the evenings come and go, unrelenting against half standards in a crowd. Shaping my thoughts with repetition; spread-eagled eyes on a sore back pitted again with remorse. Stark thoughts brush my feet in descending flurries.