Black like the sacred chambers of thy night, the inner shadows of the shambles of my light never felt so pure. Bedridden by the shackles of demise, there is no escape for my soul or, rather, what is left of it for there is no better warden than the mires of love. Never before had a being so pure been made so grotesque and, yet, here we are.

Remembrances of yesteryear no longer hold any value for such memories and emotions have now succumbed to the fatigues of disappointment and punishment. Is there no forgiveness for those who do not know or is it that all lessons must be born from the trampled beauties of naivety and joy? Who’s to say but the forsaken ashes of tears that now beckon me? How was one to know that it was possible to cry for nevermore?

Yet, as I go on, I still know no better for the magicks of illusion seemed like no more than a game to me. The superfluous reaches of hope never reached so far until, finally, it was dead. Now, the callous embrace of sadness fulfills no greater joy but the gnarled lonely pastures of my own demise. That hateful abyss of relief never tasted so sweet.

Forged by the absences of me, the remnants of my brambly beauty now encapsulate me as I hold steadfast against enemies who will never hold me dear. Bleeding first, I realize I have finally defeated me and all that was left were those who said they cherished thee. I’m sorry I could not protect you more, but now you and I are one. Our beautiful past may be no more, but our future will always be guarded.

All that remains is that intoxicatingly malevolent yet sodden abyss that always feeds us but always seems to leave us more empty than before. Our insecurities have never felt more open, yet no one ever dared to approach us, for we no longer existed. A vassal of mindless muscles and bones kept us moving.

However, despite our best efforts, suns of relief began to glimmer across the horizon - poisoning us with what it means to feel. Felled by tragedy, the vile rose I had become no longer serviced me. Instead, the tragic voice within was now the only one who called me.

Met not by anger, fatigue, or hate, instead the solace embrace of Neptune had never seemed so clear and pristine. Guided by masters of old and new, our inner meditation was complete…for better or for worse. Although our grudges destroyed, never again shall we be diminished. Till death do us part to every nemesis for we may bleed the same blood but we will never be the same.

Nay.

We are better and you are nothing more than lesser. You shall die by the hands that feed you for what you have done to me and nobody will ever remember who you were, are, and were always meant to be but all will remember me for I am…

…Love.