Once upon a time,

My heart yearned for a pair of eyes, those that never once met mine.

They were delicate, enhancing a fragile glass, ready to shatter at any moment.

But I didn't want to prevent such a beautiful moment.

On the contrary,

I simply wanted to watch it happen.

Because there were colorful butterflies flying carelessly above it,

Perfectly reflecting on my glass.

I knew it was something only I can see.

It wasn't love, perhaps curiosity.

I simply wanted to watch over it,

Just for a little longer.

And I still linger.

Curious, and the same question,

"What is it thinking at the moment?"

"Has it shattered?"

Or rather,

"Has it healed?"

Over and over again.

I didn't expect,

An aching heart.

Is it because that very aching heart,

Belongs to me?

I shed tears,
For those who had experienced that very pain.

The same pain I fear to face,


Death.


But it pains me more,
To be the only one to remember,


The Forgotten.


All my life,
I've seen death play it's game.

Those who...

seek it,

fear it,

face it.

But despite this,
I still feel sorrowful,
For all the pitiful souls,
Whom leave this vast world behind.

Despite their unknown...

names,

faces,

souls,


I Feel,



Sorrowful.


Is this what we call,
Mourning?

Once upon a reunion.

A moment but forever, a happy memory.

An understanding of 'farewell', several tears of sorrow.

A pure, yet deeply shattered heart.

Longings of love, shadows of despair.

A goodbye to the 'golden hour' sky, something once music to my ears.

But now it acts like a border separating two worlds.

I question myself with crystals rolling down my delicate, fragile self.

Why do I still smile?

In the end, I'll always be grateful.

But when will my prayers be heard?

Cursed, yet blessed.

Bright in disguise, dark in reality.

Because she pretends. Because she indulges in her delusions. Because she is hidden. Because a mask can cover scars. Because she repents on her  sins. Because she isn't scared. But that would mean she had left this world behind long ago.

Actually, it was all just an illusion.

Because in the darkness, she tries to come back.

Her broken tears beautifully shine in the dark, immediately crystallizing as they caress her cheeks. Her purple, shattered yet gentle soul, it is irreplaceable.

She is I, I am her.

Blessed, yet cursed.