My strings attach to you,

And you and you and you.

But they never return to me.

For who I was is a forgotten memory

A distorted grimoire.

Only I could adore.

Adore...hehe. That's something I never used,

When I looked into my shell.

I could ride the salty waters of war,

And come back unscathed.

For I have seen all that is needed to be seen,

In order to crumble.

Where is me?

Where is thee?

Woe is me,

Woe is to be.

And as I dance for you,

I crack with every move I make.

Wondering why worry wilts willingly,

And regenerates in the form of my wooden palace.

Oh, change.

Come to me,

And be apart of my collection.

For if you're not apart of thee,

Then my soul shall flee.

Wondering where I could be.