The place I usually listen for the noise I want and miss, Now lays silent.
The source of my happiness, now ran dry.
The place where I belong, now feels alien.
Though we meet, It seems we're too far away.
The palace where I found solitude, now is struck asunder.
The moor I used for relief, Now vanished.
The shelter I used for shade, now has its roof torn.
All of whats left is myself, a shell, a product, an empty can of my past self.
-*cries in the corner*-
We鈥檝e updated our privacy policy so that we are compliant with changing global privacy regulations and to provide you with insight into the limited ways in which we use your data.
You can read the details below. By accepting, you agree to the updated privacy policy.
