Thursday, 29 August 2013

Dying forgotten

The voices are fading,
From long ago,
I used to see their hands,
But now no longer,
Nothing but the wilting flowers,
That sweetly stink,
Of decay,
And the death,
That comes ever closer,
With each day,
The nights for me,
Grow ever longer,
It's harder to draw breath.

~Rei Shiori

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