Cold breeze touching my skin,
As I sit upon a marble seat,
The moon is brightly shining,
As the lake reflects the elite.

Contrary of the beautiful sight,
Inside thyself, there wasn't any light,
Fighting invisible demons, eating me alive,
Doubting if I will still survive.

Silently weeping with my eyes and heart,
Looking surely like a devastated art,
Alone, I mumble to myself, and again, I swore,
"If my heart could yell, it couldn't talk anymore."