death-of-dream

Potemkin suffered bitterly from having nothing left to want. For when dreams turn into reality, there is an empty spot where the dreams used to be, and Potemkin had no dreams left.

And hoops, like rings aflame set to jump through for a world fit for someone elseThe cold harsh feel of steel on skin, the unloved touch of an industry used to deprave all mankind of its creativity and cast us out as a solider of fortune. Working to build an empire of dirt until the grave of another unknown warrior lays dead and buried amongst the masses of a billion unknowns before him.