The heart is heavy, and the burden won’t be borne away, I seek the sun beyond the
weeping moon, among the mourning stars, I seek for hope in the faces of those
forsaken spirits, I moan silently, wailing for the diseased dream, and the rain softly
washed away the remained memory of the sunlight, leaving only darkness in the
I weep delightfully, as I amputate the hanging wish, releasing my soul from the ghost
of hope; comfortably I sank in grief, unwilling to rise, refused to pass through, this
comfort drifted in my veins so ruthlessly I almost couldn’t breath.
Oh, woe for the dreams that kept me hanging on the edge of sanity, and woe for those
promising tomorrows that faded in the ashes of solitude, for the foolish in me had finally
crossed the way to the fairyland where a heart can dwell in peace.
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