No matter how perfect love may seem it’ll someday leave and sometimes you have no choice than to say goodbye and just hope that one day you’ll find it in your path again.
Is death the beginning of a new life? Or the beginning of being forgotten? What truly is next?
This is for the days we try to figure out why a misfortune has happened. What we did that brought it out way and how we could have avoided it.
Because everything comes in monochromes, every night that comes is an evidence that the dawn is near
I am not afraid of this darkness.
Like windows of opportunities behind a closed door,
In this story building, lingering hope is the first flaw,
And eversince blueticks started leaving blueprints,
Emotion has been throwing tantrums like slings.