Calle Segovia

Shall he find the art of mending a broken heart, he realized that wounds would never really heal easily.

So he let his heart cry through the bleed of his pen and declare that the war be ended. His vanity of existence chose to delight in serene melancholy and write the epilogue for the last page of his piece, just so one can still breathe.

"...Because I want her to live the poetry we cannot write."