Are you a burnt little matchstick?
Struck against scraping sandpaper
Till you shine bright enough to be a star,
But the joy of being enough is robbed by the end, without going far.
Burnt, crippled, broken, and used,
Now showing no more potential nor promise,
You are thrown away by the world,
Tossed in a pile without a thought,
The light you brought, they forgot,
So they have simply left you to rot.
-Maya Desdemona
In this ballroom,
They are bride and groom.
But it truly seems,
That this arrangement attracts doom.
For they are but puppets,
Forced to dance on a never-ending stage,
So they play their parts to perfection,
Praying that someday,
Things will change.
For whom are you putting on this act?
To which great masquerade artist
Are you trying to prove yourself?
– Maya Desdemona
I watch as you bring me down,
Stare silently as I watch my fall.
My hope has already withered,
I once used to trust you.
Everything was so perfect,
I don't know why it had to change.
I don't know why you did it,
I can't help but ask why.
My faith in you is gone,
I will never trust you again.
My god, why did I ever trust you,
I think I might hate you.
– Arsh
Luminousis 