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Move on.

Or not to move on?

Sometimes, deaths make me think, about the forgotten manuscript.

How thanks to it everything came together and yet apart.

Yet, know not of the dead I do, am I feeling triumph from the curse I left?

Or I am saddened?
Or ashamed of them?
Or utterly afraid of what I have done?

Endless rain of tears and sorrows. Brought what have you to this foolish world?

Scary crimson sky. Bring forth thy fear in people's hearts?