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When the end and the beginning meet, it’s always the memories that clench. For things that move inevitably, is in blood was gripped to stay. Irreversible is the time, for you to dream of it to go back to those days you both enjoy the company of being together.

Because to know and to be able to seek comfort in these foreign feelings of loneliness—as the gap widens through time—is a capability that’s still out of the scope.

We are wary about the fact of thank you and goodbyes. We sob for the apologies that now we only realize we waste the chance to mend the loosened strings. We strain ourselves for the end to come.

But it is a must for a potted plant to grow. For it to grow and be fostered, is the unchained vicinity of calmness and ease.

Maybe that’s the way it was intended to be. From a colorful path, we had taken, is an unimaginable end that’ll greet you after. From the blues and monochromatic life we had lived, we once made our days shine brightly.

But now, we go back to the plain palette and a dull canvas. And the seems to gleam art we had started, was far away to be continued again—or it’s just me who continues it and hopes for a greater end?

Why does time bring it up every time? Why can’t I keep my mind? I don’t know. It’s the false hopes.

To wish is to die. To hope is to lie. To live is to face the inevitable freedom within an endless cage.