It is dark. Cold. The lights knocked out by the raging winds.
I am so, very tired; it's hard to stay awake. My body craves any form of rest, but I cannot provide.
Whispers haunt my ears, and flames haunt my eyes. I cannot escape myself. I did this to myself when I lost my mind.
Your love may warm up this cold I call home, as I did for you, in a time I've forgotten. Alas, my dear, love is a figment of my imagination. I never felt it. I never loved you, I never loved anyone.
I can't even love myself, but myself is all I care for.
