My memories keep haunting me.
I keep seeing them.
Their vacant eyes are following me.
Cold. Deep. Wounded.
I can see them.
But I can't touch them.
I can see them.
But I can't hear them…
I can see them.
But I can't think about them.
No matter how loud, visible, solid they are,
I can't do it...
It's too late...
Their shadows starts fading away,
Their faces starts fading away,
The dark fog had caught them.
I lost them…
This is all my fault…
They're dead…
They died in a place, a ghost town, that no one knows, called
Still Town
I've broken their promise.
