Write her a letter

I reckoned it's about time
For words are most cherished during a dip in chaos
For laughter and glee are things that was better ignored

Make yourself heard
For your sorrow are just the tip
For you couldn't make it
For what it may have been

Well, who's counting?
This is not the end
You've been carrying a broadsword
From which you hold reversed by hand

No sheath, no blip
No armors, no sticks
No friend to hold you dear
And you just tried to breath

So much for a happy ending
Yeah. With tears on your bed
Skipping things to get a puff
Relaxing... Anything else?

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