• My heart has broken again. What's left for me now? I'm lost in the shadowy nothingness that was once called life. What's left to look forward to? Just because I pretended I'm fine, does that mean I really am? You act like you care, then use me as though I'm some sort of tool to be disposed of afterwards. What am I to you? Do you not care so much that you must deny the simplest explanation? What's left is the cold outside world of broken dreams and lost hope. I hope you are happy now as I drive myself to oblivion. The black eternity, that, is what's left.