Can I be good to the people of whatnot?
Can tattles be gentler with rhythms of blue?
How would you beat the sounds of feud?
How can anyone struggle to gain the ‘win’?
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I may have the conquest you called the ‘bundled whip’. I tested. I gain. I conquer. I am proud. I am tall. And I am amongst of what nots and what ifs. I always flanked on situations that persists on getting me fail. And fail. And fail. And fail. Otherwise, I wouldn’t believe I am a package of failure – a bundled whip.
I was in the state of pathetic hopelessness. I am dark alone. I did be something of what not. And I don’t get to test to joining the ‘quit’. I am indeed futile. I do am the rascal. The rogue. The dude that has-been.
I won’t tell you a story of the grounds of my failure nor why am I bliss at this stage of my twilight melancholic expeditions. I bid to tell a story of a girl I most endeavored upon and do undone. It is my most exceptional treasure. My living fear and desire – Scarlet.
“I don’t expect things would turn out this way, Greg. I felt bad of being in so much mean to both of you. Uh. I really don’t know what to say.” Her voice husks the echoes in my fainted head. Her words screech slowly and slowly to my ears screaming to bleed very, very badly. “I. AM. SORRY. FOR. YOUR. LOSS.”
789Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡso9tUFVDlg
I do respond. A YES – A yes to another dying tear. The girl bows her head and ends the farewell. I was left in front of her grave. And alone. She’s my wife. How do things happen this way? How do things keep happening this way?
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