She holds the pen and flips the pages,
She realizes that she has so much to tell you,
Yet the thoughts never materialize into words.
Seasons are changing
Waves are crashing...
Drowning in the pit she dug for herself…
Every time she tries to rise,
It floats upon the surface of the darkness, in which she is drowning,
pbbly sorrows know how to swim and agony knows her guild.
Can she burn the maze she grew?
Can she, don’t think so…
The intricacy of the game is defeating her,
It’s leaving several questions unanswered . . .
Hope she finds a way to tell you everything by saying nothing. . .
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