Library: J. Nightsinger's 13-13

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+* j . n i g h t s i n g e r ' s 1 3 - 1 3 *+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+* I was there once. Tears in my eyes I press my face against the cold glass. Try as I might, my numb fingers feel nothing anymore. The glass feels like a soft breeze of wind, nothing more. The bright sunshine doesn't warm. People on the other side, playing, running, screaming, having fun... I have been away for aeons, certainly. It feels like forever. The agonizing pain to leave this world behind, but always returning to watch it from the other side... the wrong side... To the border of this world before me, so full of life and meaning and forgotten friends... To the border of the world after me, so black, dead, meaningless. Every now and then a familiar person comes to talk to me through the glass. His voice is muffled and he almost has to shout if I were to fully catch the sentences. But as I watch him, asking the same, normal questions I'm being asked over and over again, a blink of an eye can last for hours, one word can last a day. I watch him smile the worryless smile so many people in that world smile, and ask myself whether I shall ever be smiling that way again. Maybe someday, aeons from now. Lost in memories, I slowly walk away, knowing, waiting, crying quietly, screaming inside. Perhaps blooming one day. Blooming again as the beautiful black rose I once was, and shall be again. *+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+* Dedicated to my dear friend, Onysabelt Blackrose. *+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

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Library: J. Nightsinger's 13-13