bridge over troubled water.

The waves of complexity have taken you away, washed you into a sea of self-hatred. If I could eat your problem away, I would. But I can't. You have to eat it yourself. But isn't that the problem? I want to steal you from your blind grave so you can see yourself again. Live , again. Steer you towards truth; where the mirror reflects actuality instead of self-conceived lies. But how? How can I bring you back from the dead? So that two ravens, secretly in a room; their sky, can fly once again. Mais cette fois-ci, amongst verity and above reality; where I could, indeed, let you know  that you're beautiful.