"There was once a time I could carry my eyelids over labored sockets withstanding exhaustion written upon my visage as a precaution for peace.
A time where I could rest knowing each night I lay and put my weary away, that sleep would never let me run astray into chaos.
But sleep is a kin to death and birds of a feather flock together and whether or not you try to prepare, never in life can you control what's fair.
I am curious, however, in the sense that if I do not wake, and should dusk not break, would this be enough to end this ache?
But when agony brings one suffering and words and gestures become nothing-
Ceasing to carry on this burden is a blessing in totality, and I cannot bear more than that as my reality."
[>Bring me Mercy please..<] -J
