Rising smoke of black anguish, like bleeding nightmares, surround me. Im enshrouded by the thick mist of sorrow, that crushes my to million pieces. I die every second, as I remember how much happiness I had gathered in those times of black. Now I just stand in the gray shades that hover over me like raven wings. She was my everything. She is my everything.
And then, I look at myself and see how disgusting I have been the past months, always shrieking out the cries that are unheard and useless. I gather that when I try to reach a point in her ways of magic, I am cast away, and when others...
It is sad why I have to be the one to be pushed aside, but still, after this long time, I feel everything that I have felt, and somehow it still rises on and on. There is no stop to this madness, this insanity black and sharp.
And after a thousand seasons of unrest, I still stand like the slow flickering flame of a candel at late night hours. I melt and die, and there is no morning. There is no light. I am black. Black as herself. I am a part of her. I am her.
Words have been the worst knowledge and her gaze has been the best. I can read inside her abyss, and this is what keeps me sane.
Her voice still torments me everytime, and she uses it to murder my existence each time she utters her grim words into my ears, through the tiny openings in my cell phone. I believe that no one has died as many times as I have, and no one has been lucky to find someone as hers, well, except her friends.
I will forever be in love with her, no matter what.