the time moves like quicksand.
Where humans interfered with Fate is where the moon become a black hole shadowed with evil and consequences.
the colors of the season becomes nothing but a gallery of time’s woes and triumphs.
here, the past, present, and future are one.
the strands of time split off.
our lives wither away, like dying flowers.
seeing everyone in front of me reminds me of how alone I am.
is this a form of torture especially designed for me? to torture me with the worst until i give in? but give in to what – an unknown i have no knowledge of?
the push and pull of happiness and sadness rips me apart from the inside.
I try to hold on to you but time rips you away.