Like a flower, one day it blooms beautifully, one day it wilts caused by unbalanced water. One day it dies. Others it reincarnated. I am dolor of thinking my own actions. Which part did I ruin? I can't figure things out since my senses had become my own sickness. I pray too much. Prayers that I myself didn't remember being muttered. Maybe He is confused with my needs. Or maybe I am too greed. Hope is inevitable. In every night, I cried. Grant me ease. So I can sleep in peace. We have met before, again now. I don't know what to feel or do. The connotation between rights and wrongs.
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