I could not stand it, being in this rut.
I want to leave, I want to escape.
I feel so trapped, I feel so lost.
Regrets are so loud, I could not hear my own voice.
I want to rest in peace just to silence the noise,
but I know taking myself to the next life would bring another disappointment.
And I am afraid of being a failure once more.
I do not wish to be.

The passion has long been dead
between the both of us.
It had a cold distance;
a lackluster love,
that of which we are in war
endlessly stabbing and reviving each other.
I guess the only feelings left between us is the fear of being lonely.