Squandering

There laid the remains indistinguishable from the rest of the burning ashes.
Rust turns eyes burn when the smoke sinks into your eyeball veins.
Only comes through in flashes now, haze reins when focus sinks you into a dream.
Cannot hold on when the burning of life's exhuastion grabs your wandering soul's eye for an hour. For a lifetime or two.
hands become the seems in another wall when you fall through the floor.
Disappear when you want to again back into the last remaining everywhere.
You no longer have your team in the twisting corridors of the mindtrap's eye.
In a real place you know the wolfpack will find you. Don't let ignorance blind you.