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In tears was the evening to drink his evening dew. As fickle hope had garnished with the salty rocks that covered his heart as night was due. His reddened eyes burned heat with cold that never in rays could never mount a silent scorn. In he how wept was clouded by the life he had as though reborn. With music echoing lyrics whom he can relate; shadows in the light whispered his name, recalling his past from here to now. Like fire shall memory consume him. In past it was only ashes that could ever feed his sighs. Despite twenty hours with nought to eat, would swallow his own spit with the shame that brought him in the doorstep of despair.

He could not hold his breath for even a second. Every pant issued streams that poured into the floor. Dropped. Breath. Done. He was everywhere. He threw himself onto the floor and suffered alone. In loneliness his world was slowly decaying. And when he looked up to the darkening sky, he saw the stars beckoning him there. The moon nowhere to be found was tucked beneath clouds that they’ll crush to feel the air compressed into a fold that stabs his heart with a strike to remember. Let this he shall remember: a suffering unfinished.

Still his solemn tunes play, again and again; it was he who picked himself up to hang himself by soiled hands. In heaps of anger was his phone that took the blame for cracks and scratch in every part. Asunder was that he threw; in this he blew; of thought he scorned. Then called to him my presence when all logic would escape him just for my entrance to ease him further for the path of rites into the new world beyond the rational.

And as he prepared me in a heap of white on white that waits and waits for the objective of peace in the name of happiness begets him for little longer whilst his help was on its way. And as he snorted I entered through the membranes and crawled through flesh, tissue to blood, brain. I will blow away the sadness that overwhelms you. I will banish the darkest cloud that rains through your eyes. As I can see through you how much you cry, thy endless supply of tears and sweat are known to the cells that work in long shifts to keep your life.

The amount of serotonin your brain absorbs is all too much; like a sponge it soaks up everything to the point you have none for yourself. Never mind, I shall touch the mind and cease the brain from within to show you the way. What use is logic when logic can not rationalise itself? This leftmost part of the brain benefits most from me, for that I shall numb it. There’s no need to think about it all; leave it be.

Hearing the cries and weeps does not slow my pace in reaching you. Give me time, I shall be there with you. Let the creative brain blossom; it is the one that can show you an angle you never thought had. But maybe all you needed was love. There, this lullaby begins. Silence. Crushed. Dark. All the senses dulled. Touch how numb. Tears soon deplete. Like a floating gravestone in the foggy river that thunders through the belly of the deathly lake: am I not the dolphin to heave you through the wastes of life to land ashore that I shall ease all pain you have. With every second passing, there an inch of thy mind hence opens.

You see yourself wandering through the absence of the mind I arrest in security of the life you deserve. You linger through the very instinct that your left brain has sought to possess; the abstraction of the abstract. Here, green is not just green; it becomes the leaves you touch. Here, blue is not just your self; it becomes the ocean that you struggle to swim through. Here, red is not just thy blood; it is the essence upon which every second counts.

The hours walk as shadows lit by light and dimmed by night through the moon that sinks into the arms of the night as my worthy companion in whom I invest myself for no return nor dividend to esteem; he is resting on the bed in the dark. Pay no heed to him. For all sorts I have gathered had happened. All at fraternity’s expense: a friend to ravage him but in vain attempt; from a potential lover to a vanishing spectre in the heat of dust in his wake. The invitation he never got for another’s birthday. But maybe he was destined to be alone; no it wasn’t.

All the worlds fall and rise again. Like phoenix, whatever happens today whether you overdosed now or yet, I shall make certain you live tomorrow, and the sun to rise by your side the next. Sleep now, as I leave you here for the night. I will not be here again, but remember my words of comfort that I express through the abscess thy mind preserves in detailed respite that I could never heal. It is up to you to heal, but there will always be the one to pick you up in order to throw you down again. But when you are stronger, your height of fall shall minimise, and there I shall be at the very bottom to catch you again when all lights life offers have soon gone out. Where all hope that you know exists are all but soon erased.

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