• A facade lies in the center, my cage of sharp white dagger. Black coated grain, held away from the longing I long for the most.
    The eyes stare from all corners, watching and judging the reaping figure. I am dark, hunched in a room of light.

    I'm a child, trapped in forced lives, a suit and eyes big as the sun.

    No one may stand, the floor in shambling ruins. The shades of death and disrepair crawling along my legs, sharp and rinsed in black and grey. And as beauty holds the ugly, it invades the foolish thoughts I hold so dear.

    There's another on the other side, the black facade wavers.
    With eyes like seastone glass and a face that tell a tale of impurity
    Wasted hopes and lost-and-found.

    So I am no longer alone, yet comfort covers my desperate, seperated life.

    He's the one here, holding these terrible hands. Grasping a fire lost to the wind.

    So my door is black as night, my unwavering desire weeping along my threads. I wish to push away that door, revealing beauty. Bringing hope to his empty eyes, icy like a sleeping winter storm.