I guess this is where it ends. My fingertips ponder against the trails fading away from my universe. The effervescence of my soul is a twisted character. By day, I see in colour. By nightfall, I dream in black and white. Under the shooting stars of my relinquished hopes, the dark splotches between them begin to cave in. The ringing in my ears becomes louder then my thoughts. The beating of my heart sounds like a cannon shooting away at everyone I love. I feel defeated, and broken inside. There's no need to go into the world if there's no one to go into it with. I have not one soul to plead for time. I feel like I could die, but then I look at the blade, and I realise that I've been dead for quite some time.
