Aonaran

Echoes of madness dance in ribbons and I try to drown them with a delicate song, but everything stops in motion. I come to a halt, remembering the days when I had no worries and the sun was my mother. I am here. Another year of insanity has passed. I don't have much to show for my time but an aching pain, a dream of running away to escape the mundane torture. Pleasure slips into a cold sway. Far gone. Can't find my way back home. I stand on a bridge, looking out at the city, the black night sky, deep in contemplation. I hear a piano. The reverb of the bass is a momentary cure, but the pain is a feeling I can't shake off. It never really goes away.