This has been sitting in my box for a very long while. It's not exactly a continuation of Daddy, but I thought I'd put it here just for show. It's no good, but whatever.

Reality is dying.

People drift in and out of the smoke of everyday life.

I am still here.

Though bruises from punches thrown or cuts from places thrown try to make otherwise.

How can it be, a soul torn apart that wasn't there to start with.

Shattered, tattered,


I am mistaken for 'compassionate' or 'merciful.'

I am supposed to be this soldier,

This humble servant,

But I feel like a slave.

It feels like I hold the entire Night Dimension on my shoulders,

Though I am not supposed to show it.

I cannot breathe.

Wake up underwater,

In a glass bowl filled to the brim.

I keep bumping into the boundaries.

Those on the other side cannot help but stare.

I do not blame them.

No silver lining

In our horizon.

Only a storm brewing,

Threatening to break us,

Break me,

Into the jagged puzzle pieces

We once were.

Back then.

Back when

I hadn't found you,

Nor you me,

Or us.

When that was only a faint feeling in the murk of our minds.

And back before we knew how to reason.


Before our innocence was lost,

We held hands like it was nothing.

And the world was so open and free

And kind.

Those days I try and forget.

But it comes back, every now and again

And I hate myself for it.

But I am still waiting.

I am still here.