Playing a game, like notes on a keyboard cascading, I don't feel alone. I don't feel good nor bad, I feel sad. Ill, and deprived of my own health, I fall like the moon, and her gazing light. Faced with a valley of pitch black, I feel like I can't play the song of my soul, to live and dance to the mellow drama of my pitiful life. I would ask for assistance, but only silence will follow. So I bid you night and day, not to follow the notes of life. Close your ears, and listen to infinity as if immortal you are, but you are not.

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