I am a forgotten character in a forgotten love story, condemned to slay each passing moment, haunted by a lethal memory that clings to me with relentless persistence. O night, shelter me in your arms, for I am so profoundly alone, my heart and soul abandoned, drifting in an abyss of desolation.
What was love, once? What has it become now, that it haunts me, kills me, and howls in the silent corners of my existence? The ticking of the clock echoes in the stillness, its sound cutting through the air like an omen of fate. The candle flickers in the darkness, mourning my despair, my melancholy—an unwelcome companion to my suffering.
Love is like a candle in the wind, its flame flickering on the edge of extinction, and loneliness is the bitter moral of my existence. I suffer under the weight of these immortal images, the visions of a past that cannot be undone. Return to me my passion, return to me my joy, for I am burning in the fire of my own feelings. I beg for the return of their currency, the precious memories that once defined me.
You should have taken every recollection with you, every thought, every fleeting moment that now strikes my imagination with painful clarity. In this castle of spirits, I dwell, surrounded by the ghosts of what once was, my pain and rage at their culmination.
The leaves rattle in the wind as if to mourn with me. Heaven sheds its tears, weeping alongside my sorrow. I sit upon the grave of my catastrophic dreams, those shattered hopes that once reached for the sky.
One last favor, just one: reveal to me the way to escape this forsaken domain. Tell me how to break free from this prison of despair.