Whispered expectations and fleeting wishes,
I have known to lose their radiance.
In warped deserts reflecting the moonlight night
They are white flowers, left and forgotten.
I cannot even touch the most trivial wishes
Far off within my memories.
Staring off into the endless cycle of death and rebirth,
I pretend I’m an angel, playing house with my polluted wings.
In this cerulean mansion, captivated by the lights
I fall into the abyss; thorns catch my outstretched arm.
Though no one can hear me, I scream out – seeking salvation.
Like the little bird that has lost its singing voice
And can only flap its wings, will someone realize I am here?
Even if I stop time, I keep moving
Upon time’s surface, now blackened and stagnant.
Nested at my feet, I am left all alone
My watch’s second hand unmoving,
I’ve forgotten everyone in the depths of my dreams.
Even my wishes for death will not be granted.
Upon my eyes that have lost their light, I feel the soft touch of cerulean hair
And white fingers stroking my cheek, cold like linoleum.
The second hand has begun to move again; I entrust my body to these fingers intertwined
The black wings of this demon goddess flap, and we accelerate like light
Continuing towards an ocean. In my gripped fingers, my strong blades
And even the anxiety I hold within, I carry into the heights of the sky.