Cursed, yet blessed.

Bright in disguise, dark in reality.

Because she pretends. Because she indulges in her delusions. Because she is hidden. Because a mask can cover scars. Because she repents on her  sins. Because she isn't scared. But that would mean she had left this world behind long ago.

Actually, it was all just an illusion.

Because in the darkness, she tries to come back.

Her broken tears beautifully shine in the dark, immediately crystallizing as they caress her cheeks. Her purple, shattered yet gentle soul, it is irreplaceable.

She is I, I am her.

Blessed, yet cursed.

Once upon a reunion.

A moment but forever, a happy memory.

An understanding of 'farewell', several tears of sorrow.

A pure, yet deeply shattered heart.

Longings of love, shadows of despair.

A goodbye to the 'golden hour' sky, something once music to my ears.

But now it acts like a border separating two worlds.

I question myself with crystals rolling down my delicate, fragile self.

Why do I still smile?

In the end, I'll always be grateful.

But when will my prayers be heard?

After every flower,
There's someone tending to it with care.
Through every storm and season's test,
Ensuring it survives,
And someday, blooms its best.
Or simply keeps on blooming,
Until there are no seasons
And no more storms to test.

Riots and protests
We protest the present day,
with chants from the past.