It’s not the fairy tales we were promised, wrapped with neat bows and happy endings.
The cycles are real, relentless. They grind, they push, they mold us against our will. Outside, we gather under skies painted with dreams, only to be washed away by rain shadowed with reality. The inevitable loop breaks not, for we ourselves have forged these chains.
Hope is the first casualty.
Honesty wears scars.
The clock ticks on.
In the trenches of mundane warfare, lives are spent like tragic comedies. Each day a performance without applause, each moment a line without rhyme. Spare us the silver linings, for we deal only in shades of grey.
Visit the Abyss to find why the stars refuse to shine, and perhaps, uncover the Truth in our darkest hours.