I was sent here to slay a demon of the deep. The only problem is, that I was sent here in physical form.
The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains.
She paints her face to hide her face. Her eyes are deep water. It is not for the artist to want. An artist is of the floating world.
She dances. She sings. She entertains you. Whatever you want. The rest is shadows. The rest is secret.
Babe, I love your heart. I love your soul. You are the most amazing in EVERY way.
