Lost in a quiet storm, silently immune to it...what lies ahead only matters now. A haunting wail overcomes the beauty of pure innocence...and enter a sullen echo. Broken lockets and two rings are the remains of yesterday...the third ring may follow..

or perhaps it won't...the wicked justification of the past has finally found its counterpart...and it is here that her heart must stop beating..it is here that she must stop breathing...no sooner can I yield than she can rise again to find an eerie sense of pleasure in the eyes of vulgarity.

and yet, a shadow still shimmers in the distance, as if longing for a kiss of purity...

 

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