I'm in a place where no one can touch me, or call me their own...

[EngelNacht]

A place o' misery an' perpetual longing. Where mine own dreams fade into dust an' all that I grasp are the bittersweet hands o' deciet. Thou hast granted mine own soul with scars and everlasting false hopes. All that I can do is lay motionless as mine own heart becomes raped with lies. 'An I shall wither away beneath the poison of regret; forget me not my sweet love, for one day thou shall feel the same. Though I shan't allow the dark angel o' misery to fly upon thee hopes. Even though mine own heart bleeds I shall protect thee, even when mine own mind does not consent. For I wish not o' revenge; neither hate nor pain for thee. Thou is all whom I Love, all I ever shall. I harnessed the passion, now I shall be alone. I shan't ever bother thee again, for 't is thee whom I love and none other...

 

She rested her heart beneath the malice of the regret's stone, and lived to writhe in the pain. As she sat silently atop the mass of untamed rock in the Desert Pine terra and gazed down upon her own rippled reflection, she smiled for the first time in an eternity. Not for she was happy though...never will she be happy again. But for some ironic thought that passed through her mind. Some small, hopeless thought.

 

The misery. The overdramatics. The life of a poet who failed his best play. That was her own now. Her little secret of plays and poems. Riddles and verses that masquerade the truth. Music and literature that pleasure many; though few think to delve deep enough into it.

 

 

 

Years ago she had been drawn into the arts, following her unexpected depression. Ever since, she has captivated the world with poetry and art that dumbfounds the mind, and music that entrances the soul. No one will ever unveil her true intentions.