It was a mistake to desire the light, aware that it's bound to fade. It was a mistake to unshackle my binds, aware that fate commands the way.
What is fortitude? Sincere belief
What is belief? Glint of hope
What is hope? Trojan Horse of pain
Life is bland. It's as tasteful as death, but we live on pulses of flavor that give it a momentary taste. A sense becomes a memory that wanes to be erased.
Love? It's when the vile paves a way of roses, shows you the sun for once. A bouquet of flowers it hands you, and from a green meadows you race to the apex, wholeheartedly, but you end up in a barren field, your flowers wither and the sun that signified elation, is setting you ablaze.
To the darkness, I returned. To the bland, I retreated. To the yore, I yearned.
Feelings.
Moot.
![Bland-[C]It was a mistake to desire the light, aware that it's bound to fade. It was a mistake to unshackle my binds, aware t](https://image.staticox.com/?url=http%3A%2F%2Fpm1.aminoapps.mejorapp.org%2F9404%2Fec9b044db1309c3b42b46038145c830e344c7199r1-736-1280_hq.jpg)
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