Sometimes the psyches fly on their own, be careful not to step on them. Thread softly so your feet don't get cut by the glass. The river flows gently on their veins, but their screams echo through your head. These are the flowers for the beauty in death.
for those who slept under candles and kisses, bewitched clouds may cover unchained kisses.
to those who cry and play under the sun, remember the moon can shine as ever so bright.