Untitled
morning white
glistens
within
the
reach of a brighter light,
from sun or
moon's
own shine, who remains aware?
harmless teasing is
nothing more,
until
tears
fall and
the lesson
is learnt through cost of life,
is it
'help'
she seeks then? For herself,
or the dead?
"does she regret?"
I ask, and you defend
"hey,
she cries
and feels bad." but
you do not answer,
and I never to trust you or her,
again.
Leave.
-Rozaria Elenor for Urokai Agvain
Cats, Regrets and a Dash of Dumbass (fic)