What I was unwary of is the space in between, a natural void filled with nothing not an impositive and inherent human misleading reflection.
Regardless, the aftermath is to bring closer or to come across, but the purpose is to merely define and acknowledge the fact of the existence of it. Since purpose has redeem itself before me, I owe it the honour of attempting so.
The most little and
gruesome siren has emerged to sing me the utmost soft lullaby of hate:
the song of despair...and this space has reminded me of that.
