Ask me what is most important to me, and I will answer you the same as I always have. It does not seasaw back and forth like children upon the playground, but it becomes like that of a fine wine aging.
Growing sweeter, sweeter, and yet at the same time growing bitter, bitter.
Growing darker, darker and yet at the same time growing redder, redder.
Like everlasting tear drops staining a fine ivory tablecloth.
I do not pretend to be happy, but I do not show remorse nor sadness either. It is such a thing with one of my position. I was born into it and with the fading years, others died me into it as well. Yes, died... perished... but such things are commonalities in the world.
Perhaps the few who surround me will come to see with eyes unclouded, like the moon's rays shining vibrantly upon a cloudness night. However, I know of a few who in time, must be blotted out like an incoming storm.
But I, us, we, they... at times such things are the same, but I must protest that I, us are different.
Because they expect those to fear them... and I expect those to strike fear.
As for us? We are to shed our skin... become hues of ivory white. For with enough washing, surely the stains will blot out...
Re: *~ The Last Dance ~*
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