She wanted toīe someone else, someone better. Her cries for help remained unheard, unable to be understood, sinkingįurther into the deep that grew into her doubts and afflictions. Towards her, love was hard to grasp once realizing that it meant loss too polarizingįor her to bear. With the inquiries of where the beginning of the end took place, all pointing Remnants of her wild heart fell off her sleeve the more she questioned it all. Word became foreign, a distant memory coming back to haunt her because maybe she never was in love, and the In a town much like yours, there was a young woman who fell out of love. With anguish, lost with a love no longer existing. Eventually, pieces fall and they roam to places strife When one says goodbye for the last time, their heart aches for She wished could be taken back it was a farewell that remained bittersweet on “ Sayonara,” she said, except it was a goodbye Oblivion appeared endless, violent in the descent into the unknown, and yet herīody could only stand idle as her soul and her mind were now at odds.
Of love was what they called her, fitting was such a term as she fell toĭespair, unable to grasp the shards of a heart dared to be broken. As the ending says, “For years she fell through spirals of sadness and anger until she could not fall any deeper and fell right back into her groove.” Although I’ve never fell out of love, I recognize how world-ending the emotions that follow must seem.
An in depth analysis of what is one of my favorite games in the whole wide world.
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