When I tried to peek the windows,
They turned foggy and blurry
And teary and cold;
I cannot remember anymore.
I work with the puzzles from a corner;
Making bigger and better looking plots.
Those only bear all my fears
Of the broken glasses from the dark.
My riddles were about to make sense,
Then reality broke down apart;
Scars that tell true tales
Had crumbled the path to the dusk.