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So who truly wears the mask? The fool or the fool who follows them?

A story about loneliness, heartbreak and solace. Written in dedication to all of my friends who I witnessed suffering in this way...

Is it worth being chained by gold when freedom is just on the horizon?

What does one really see in winter?

Where do our secrets go when they appear? What happens to them when they are told?

Welcome to The Red Hall, where Night stores her mischievous children.

A woman's beloved song became her soul sold to the devil.

One song could tame a mighty sea. One gift was the demise of those that, once, could never be tamed.

Why must we define what we cannot control? Night is pure where Day is tormented. But we live both.

The bridge between life and death is really nothing more than one covered in the colors of autumn, as told through a vivid memory.