Such a fickle soul,
Left to be tormented alone,
Loves to indulge in these temporary amusements,
Time has seemed like a fleeting moment,
How ungrateful of us not to savor every second we have,
The unnerved and unfazed,
Sweet sap of empathy,
Little grief for the lonely,
Melody of the weak,
With pale grey eyes,
Oh, lovely,
Why does it end so quickly?
The night draws nigh,
As the soul of demise basks in moonlight,

Perhaps,
It will be your last light.