exhausted from trying too hard to resurrect something from the tight clasp of Death.

I can't phantom the horror of watching things fall apart at their sheer will and strength,

without a care for the fragility of my mind witnessing the crumbling of something that'd just emerged from its very ashes.

The feeling of the even knocking against my chest beats no more, silence like never before swallows my sanity complete.

It's snowing in my heart now, an emptiness I can't fill.

It's freezing, and the warmth inside me had ceased, I'm shaken with fear for the unknown,

wondering if the next step I take will be the last.

I worry, because then I can never nurture and heal the soul within me, struggling to survive the odds and fight for the justice it was never treated with.

It is regrettable that while she is playing against the rules, I'm forced to keep within my boundaries and try surviving in that stifling environment where merits are unaccounted for and one could only get the limelight through illegitimate means.

I play by my own rules, and I'd never let circumstances shape who I fundamentally am.