A darkened memory,
calling out like a twisted melody.
Warped dreams,
hide our tortured screams.
Though no matter how hard we try,
we are never able to get these wings to fly.
Every day we lose more hope,
and it becomes harder, much harder to cope.
We want to see beyond the skies,
beyond the truth, beyond the lies.
We want to recover what was lost...
....but, what would be the cost?
I wrote this five years ago today......
I was ready to end it all to stop my pain.
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Chronicles of a Filandrythian
A mysterious red leather book, that seems to want you to read it.
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