i always waste away whatever tranquil time i have it isn’t as if i hate it or anything, but i want to melt away all the ill feelings i have hidden away from me. i feel that if i searched, i would find more places i could be, but there are some things i can only understand by honing myself, such as the moon, which stings bleeding into me, or my own inextinguishable soul, wielding its unavoidable blaze.
i don’t want to rid myself of any of the wounds i’ve suffered up until now, even though all i wish for is to see you again… everything dives into the emptiness opened up inside of me. chasing after the ticks in time, the ever increasing lies, i’ll strike forth without using any unnecessary magic. until i reach the end, this is my empty resolution.
locked in the frustration of being chained, unable to move either in the distant sky or close universe i call to the sleeping air and disappear into noise.