Lie to me,
tell me the world has happy endings and Santa Claus does exist.
Cause I cannot take this sick reality.
Of pain and hollow cores,
I just want snowflakes.
In the bitter darkness, I ache, openly. Hoping,
Where now Hope may not exist. And ergo happiness,
For where is life without love,
And love without friends,
For suddenly I dim, Unexpectedly,
Lose all expectedness,
And fall as winter may,
Cold then all at once frozen.