Feet are cut... by melancholia-infested memories. Is this my savior? My never-ending heaven I'm supposed to be in? No, God never answered me. Here I am, death on earth. Earth I am, both of us blend... to eternity.
No curse, no bliss. No death to undying crisis. You will never get the key, not on last blink. Die, girl with a poem. Die on her last poem.