(warning, negative motive and subtext.)

Sometimes it seemed to you that your state of mind switched with the seasons. Kinda sad and gloomy in winter, but in spring everything seemed to fall into place. Life blossomed with fragile white flowers, playfully sparkled like dew in the sun, smelled of freshness and wet wood.

Something went wrong this year. You thought that this feeling would just linger, until summer, maybe. But then June passed. Then July. Then August. September. October. November.

Winter. Again.

Eternal inky darkness, you don't know what lives in it. What if snowflakes are just a multitude of eyes? Watching you. Or the lost souls of those who were taken by the darkness? Every crunch of snow in the suffocating silence accurately communicated your location to every thirsty creature that was so eager to get in the back of your head from behind.

Sometimes, after sleepless nights, you would climb up to the roof of the high-rise building where you lived. Dawn used to be synonymous with spring. But when everything has merged into one, what does dawn mean?

End.

Dawn means a lot. You told it so much. Each time it listened to you, comforting you with sleepy, but juicy like citrus rays.

Torchbearer brightened your company. Everyone said he didn't exist, but you wouldn't mind even if he was a hallucination or something. He was like the dawn. Understanding, wise, calm.

He sat next to you, his legs dangling over the edge in the same way as yours, watching the sun rise. Today you wanted to tell him that...

It's time for the dawn to be the end.

Well, yeah, you give up. Many people give up...