Grief-stricken town of godless seams. Grey houses, windows yet the view remains evermore faded. Move the curtains, let it in. walk on now, and leave behind your dwindling sorrow. Stars will stay though, moon too will shine. In the grief-stricken town of the deity of love. Gold less seams because anticipation exists, yet no love arrives.
Guess you'll have to make do on your own.
Cry tears into your pillow, exist forsaken.
Like you have been, like you've stayed.
Quietly, lonely.
Sunken in dreams will come afloat, rise above. Old wishes will stay. Schemes of love, but in the end of it, all you’ll need will be yourself. You know you’ll make do. You have before, you will again.
Maybe your night will pass in a whim of weeping, but trust me. The sun will rise, it always does. Even in the town of grief-stricken hearts, the sun will rise.
