Voices of the Unheard

Lily Annie Gold

Lily...
My dear Annie Gold.

Why are you so cold?

For if I could turn back the hands of time maybe we could of remain human.
For all I wanted was a friendly face to greet me.

Genuinely.
Like they do in drama's or play's.

Illusions become reality rather quickly...

And even now your once vibrant expression is now a pale grey.
Oh the monsters we create.

But upon the ocean's oceanic floor is where you procreate..
For there is no sound home or place...

Where are dreams slumber and our nightmares wake..

- Mello