Things don't seem so great when your right hand has fallen into his deep void. He doesn't show any emotions perhaps, he has a well inside him to scream and cry into. The best that can be done is to stick with him and that seemed to be accomplished but yet, you'd get your own eyes gouged out and come to play such a silly game for what seems to be wasteful. If only and just if only, we could have answers to as why a few things happen, perhaps things would be a tad lighter?
It seems as if we're just continuously being lured in by the wind up bird's, tune. Forget-me-nots will always be planted to create another oath, yet again. In the end, it's excruciating pain shrouded by the blindness of the ones that created, such a pain. As our hearts wrench, they release yet another bigger smile. It'd be smart of us just to walk away, why stay for something that's going to become increasingly, pointless? It's probably about time that we've surrendered to the shadows that trail behind the fragments of our hope. Being rather egoistic might repel yet another tragedy. The wind up bird may continue to flap its wings and enchant us with its harrowing tunes. Our hearts would become ragged, in unison. There's much space for the likes of our mindsets. It's prime for us to hinder ourselves from outraging our true natures, once again. It isn't as if we chose to do so, just an occurrence, an extremely, painful notion. We'd abide nonchalantly, to keep soundlessly holding in, In an abstract sentimentality. In what we find complex yet intriguing, we'd soon seek out the contradictions.
