i. the edge of paradise

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As the boy known to be the epitome of fury entangled himself inside the vines
of young, hormonal romance,
he couldn't help but peek
over to the edge of paradise.

Melancholy mourned over
the death of his relevance,
an elegy strumming out
from his veins,
as the boy unwillingly bade goodbye to the people
that used to shower confetti
all over him before.

Those people —
come-and-go tourists
in his life —
were the ones
who had blessed him
with their uplifting words.

But they had stopped
caring now
— completely.

They faded like a fog after
heavy rain stormed the scene, disappeared from his life
without a trace.

Their last farewell?
They treated him like he
was a speck of dust
in the wind, waiting
to be sucked in
by the demons,
like he was a shout
into the void of nothingness.

As he wiped off his last tear,
he whispered faintly into
the blank space:

To those who are still
loyal with me,
I love you all,
and I hope
we will be friends forever.

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