How long do we keep running,
Until the flames burn down,
And the ashes settle down,
Into the dust,
That form the intricate patterns of our lives,
And the pasts we hold,
So wrought with tragedies,
That they cry at night,
To be retold,
So we tear open again,
The wounds they made,
Lay our breast bare,
For all to see,
And stare,
Like an animal on parade,
Like the sad fate of a caged bear.
~Rei Shiori
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