And value was the ink with which their names were written

it’s okay to be in love with the dying light
spending your evenings away from reality
things that make you forget about burning
and while the lasting memory haunts you
it’s cold embrace feels right
the just emotional whirlwind that feels pure
fuels your sense of being
time erodes away its value
but sometimes its strength transforms
i want to hold my former self
tell him that life is going to be painful
but he can be stronger
to make him understand isolation is chosen alienation is given
stagnation isn’t a confine to misery
virtuosity isn’t fulfilling
and sometimes the pawn’s value outweighs the king
and to live in the shadow of your own worth is a disgrace to one’s own constant growth