I should feel guilty, I know this. Isn't that what they say? And in the end, a callus is nothing more than repeated hardened proof of misery gone numb.
It is from there that we must choose. Do we hide in the shadows?
Or do we display it and let it shine, like a medal from some forgotten war?
This world thrives within growing darkness, clawing blindly until something solid is grabbed, squeezed until its final breath is released.
For this, I'm sorry.
It is from there that we must choose. Do we hide in the shadows?
Or do we display it and let it shine, like a medal from some forgotten war?
This world thrives within growing darkness, clawing blindly until something solid is grabbed, squeezed until its final breath is released.
For this, I'm sorry.
