We will, one day, write our story. 
We will, someday, sing our song. 
Weakening as the darkness creeps upon us.
And escaping our own selves.
Fighting to fall asleep - forever- before the ghosts caught up to us.
Filled with ashes.
Filled with snow. 
Hoping a fire would burn and give us hope. 
The world isn't always the best  we had heard. 
So we leave strokes and ink on our favourite canvases. 
And set off to find something of our own.