See, death isn’t what you choose. Most of the time, you don't really want to die. You just want things to change. You just want to rest.
Like glowing embers left from a wildfire, we emerge unscathed from the wreckage, becoming the storm that once destroyed us.
I hope you find your sanctuary in this world full of monsters and men who are in some ways too alike.
In the end, all we have are our words and the music it brings.
you have become a lot of things ever since you left.
After a never-ending second, they heard each other say, “Save me.”
For a long time, we have stayed in this house, believing that spring will come someday.
It should. It promised.
maybe i can never fly... maybe i can't touch the sky...
Who will I be?
Who should I be?
Who can I be?