Blue person leaning their forehead into their hands. They have short, blonde hair and is wearing a pink top.

There will come days 

There will come days where waking becomes difficult.

Sleep comes only after the lonely sun has risen,

Behind the midst of clouds.

There will come days where breathing is painful.

Alone, alone, listening to the sound of emptiness,

The breaking sound of your heart.

And there will also come days where living becomes long.

Seconds into minutes, hours into days,

Time that continues moving,

As our memories fade.

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