Alas, the sky is bright...
I keep hearing voices from the past and in my wake i darken. I am sinking inside myself as into a grave.
In a depressed expectancy i scream in pain but it never seems to go away.
Gestures, whispers, noises these are but ghosts of words sunken in silence.
I hear your name muttered in a whisper. For aeons of despair still to come i'll try to tear myself away from my shadows.
Their silences are colder still...
Dispel the cold...
where i to be born in the same pain i am now how could i recognise myself and tell who i was?