• Cera Sylar


Updated: Aug 4

The eternal hourglass turns and turns with no object of purpose, only knowing that it must turn.

The dust that falls is thunderous to the ears, yet has a magnitude none else can hear.

It is thought no one else in the world feels the same. It is thought no one else understands all our pain.

So loneliness creates our own despair, so loneliness becomes our final affair.

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