Silent vociferation
My child,
Come with me,
Let's sleep,
Let's paint our house blue,
Our face crimson like your favorite horizon,
Holding each other to the other cliff,
I would be there for you.
Deep in your grave,
Tears strike as a sign of my grief.
For you.
The voice, coldly shuddering songs as she sang, promised a good story with a twisted hidden meaning that she refused to turn blind eyes again. The grips become more vicious as she kept her feet on the ground, refused to turn back, and refuses to see what was reality.
Sikat na Kabanata