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.