Eura , after realizing that her father will not listen to her words , agrees to not be involved with Vosk anymore. She walks up to Vosk. Eura sits down in front of him. Vosk has blood all over his face, his lips cut, his head drips blood.

  Vosk looks in Eura's eyes, it's sadness. There is no gimmer in her eyes like it used to be. Soon blood gets in Vosk's eyes , so he can't even see Eura anymore. Eura controls her breath and is weeping silently. She asks Vosk a favour" Vosk , we can't have a future together. It seems like we were wrong to have loved. I love you Vosk , but this , us it can't happen. Can you please leave me? Can you not die here and live today? I wish we could die together , but they will kill you if i die now. Vosk , can you write poems for me? can you keep performing for me , Vosk?"

  Vosk struggles to open his eyes , he cant even wipe his face, his arm had already been broken by the guards. Vosk , puts his face in the ground. He cries , his screams fill the entire mansion. Vosk doesn't want to live if it is without Eura. He asks her to just die with him , then and there so they can at least die together.

  Eura disagrees, she tells me " Vosk , I can't , I want you to make it... don't be impulsive Vosk". Vosk speaks up " Eura, you think all this is a joke? You think , my love is insignificant? If i don't have you around, you think i'd be able to live? You believe that after I lose you today , my life would mean anything? You are my life , Eura. I don't want anything . Eura, run away with me . Eura , please ."

  Eura wanted to leap at this opportunity, she wanted to agree , she wished she could run away with Vosk . Eura wanted to be with Vosk , but she hesitates. Her father , he was the one who always decided things for her. Whether she likes it or not that's how it is.

  Eura screams at Vosk " Leave! I told you Vosk, it's over , our dream is long gone. Why don't you get it ? We can not be together , it is sad that things ended this way. But now you should leave. We won't meet again."

  Although her words were harsh , Eura just wanted Vosk to make it out alive from this situation.

  Vosk gets deeply hurt by her words. Tears roll down his eyes mixing with his blood. Vosk loses his will . He gets up , his friends who were also beaten along side him , carried Vosk outside the mansion.

  Vosk kept crying, he begged them to take Eura before leaving. Vosk stops moving, he asks his friend for a favour" Can you... clean the blood off of my eyes." His friend uses his cloth to clean Vosk's eyes, his fingers were broken , but he still listened to Vosk's request , for Vosk suffered more than any of them.

  Vosk turns around , his eyes now open. his heart , burns with anger. He yells at the top of his lungs" William!! ... I am walking away defeated from your mansion. Remember me, I will ruin your house. Count your days William . My words ... My poems.. this wound to my heart... I will not let you be !!! Eura .. I will live ... I will not forget this day... I will burn these people down . Euraa.. Euraaa I LOVE YOU !!! Be safe Eura ."

  His friends drag Vosk away. They all get treated at another friend's house. Vosk passess out. He gets his wounds treated and his head stitched. His face has a scar at his nose. His lip is cut at a corner , he gets a rod attested to his arms.

  Vosk wakes up after 2 days of rest. He lies in his bed , thinking about what happened . No one realized he had woken up yet. He recalls the incident. He remembers the last sight of Eura, her sad face, her dead eyes. Her words, he recalls everything. He starts crying. He covers his face. Noticing this , his friend's gather around him , they're happy to know he didn't die.

  Vosk gets up from his bed. He steps out into the corridor . He feels weird, everything seems dead. He feels like nothing is worth noticing. He sits on a chair. Everything feels mundane. He wants to see the world as colorful as it was to him before. He speaks to himself " Was the world always this mundane?"

  A warm breeze strikes his face, his wounds sting . But he doesn't pay attention to them . Vosk wants to write a poem to express himself. He feels numb . Vosk wants to walk around the town like he always does . He walks through the streets, he looks at kids playing tag. Elders gossiping about their grandchildren. Young men walking around in groups. Many married couples.

  Vosk would normally feel happy to see so many people happy, but weirdly all the scenes no longer bring him any joy, he speaks to himself " Maybe my grief surpasses their joy. How unfortunate I am ."

  Vosk walks into an open field , he sits on a bench , he looks at the sky , it's sunset . The sky burns in a crimson color , the sun sets a bit more ever so often. Vosk thinks about how even the sun is now going away , not wanting to stay up any longer and engage in a conversation with him.

  He stays there, waiting for the moon to show up. He waited and waited, his stomach growled , but he did not move. He anchored his hope to the moon that night. Vosk waited and waited . It was now Midnight , the moon did not show up. It was a new moon day. There was neither any moon in the sky nor any hope in Vosk's eyes.

  Vosk got up from the bench , he said to himself" Ever since my love left me, even the skies & heavens have turned away from me!"

  Vosk goes back to his room. He sits down on his workbench with a paper and a quill. Vosk starts to vent himself , he pours all his sadness into the piece of paper , only wanting to stop when he felt better.

  Vosk starts writing his poem , he named it " Pretentious "

  he writes -

  A promise not kept .

  A promise not kept is a story untold.

  A promise not kept is shame for us.

  Our promise not kept , made my life unloved .

  My promise to you was my love for you .

  I failed my promise and failed my love.

  I failed to give you what you deserved.

  I failed to become what you deserved.

  My promises unkept , my heart is hurt.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  My love unaccepted, my heart is hurt.

  My feelings went through , but reply unheard.

  My heart aches , my mind wavers .

  My body sinks as my mind floats away.

  To you, the me who you loved was all.

  To me , the you who left me is love.

  You left me to live , left me and my love.

  You left me for the better world , left me unheard.

  Our promises unkept , our feelings unheard.

  Our love unaccepted ,our dreams shattered.

  Our hope taken away, our peace broken abrupt .

  Our love tattered , our hearts shattered.

  How broken I am , a mere husk I am.

  I am not who I am, I am not who I was .

  I have nothing I had , I have nothing to love.

  You wanted me to live , so you let go of my love.

  But what am I without my love for you ?

  What am I without my appreciation for you?

  Nothing's left of me , when you took away my love.

  I might live a million lives , but will I ever love this much?

  I wish to be next to you, I wish to be your next and last.

  I wish to be your emotional support , i wish to be your love , your life , your memories of past and your worry of the future.

  Now I drown in my tears , I drown in sorrow, when I look inside my heart. A black body of radiation thats broken at every part.

  I wish and wish , i keep wishing like you'd ever grant .

  I want to see you, your shadow as a start.

  Even your scent would be a blessing to fix my broken heart.

  I sit alone , in my room with these voices in my head.

  I am tired of this life without you and tired of my heart.

  Why can't I forget you , why not have a fresh start ?

  This mundane mind makes monotonous melody to ease my melancholy filled heart.

  Little is left my love for you , Little is left of my life.

  Be little this little world of these little people and their little hearts.

  After writing all these lines, Vosk puts it away, He doesn't feel any better. Vosk writes another poem , he names it - " Forsaken "

  He writes -

  Under these skies, Under the sun , Under these stars that shine bright and under this moonlight

  We live to be loved and blessed , we live to love , we live for fulfilment.

  If life adds meaning , why is mine meaningless.

  If life is bright and sunshine , why does mine feel so dull and bland?

  Under the Sun that shines brightly and radiates light indifferently,

  Why do I feel indifferent? These winds that make you happy,

  The voices that make you smile , The moonlight that adds sass to the empty sky

  why does the world feel so bland ? I have been forsaken , by all that cared.

  My heart broken , dreams shattered , what more do i live for ?

  There is nothing to desire, nothing makes my heart skip a beat.

  I feel cold , under the sun and its heat.

  I walk alone through crowds of people , Yet I feel unseen, unknown.

  What I had is gone , What I want is not mine to take.

  What do we do in this world mundane where reality is colorless and pale.

  I could cry a river, but no one would care,

  I sit alone and towards the skies i stare.

  I look up to see the sun hiding from me,

  I catch him in the act , but i forgive it for my own sake .

  I have hopes on the moon , to show me a flicker of light , under the dark sky.

  I sit tight and wait , my hope lies in the moonlight that pierces the clouds and makes way .

  Most awaited is the moon to me, yet it never arrived in the empty sky.

  I alone wait for it , yet it never payed heed to me.

  I cry as I look into the sky. Oh how forsaken am I ?

  I stroll back to my workbench. I sit down and breathe loud.

  My breath breaks , I feel tired , I lay down in my bed of thorns.

  I turn sides , I try to sleep , but something strange lingers in my mind.

  I pay no heed to what lies in my mind, for evil often strikes at midnight.

  I tuck myself in , yet I cant sleep. I count sheep but I loose track.

  I open my eyes to have some water. That's when I see it.

  It's me , sitting on my workbench , writing away my guilt and regrets.

  Darkness seeps from within me , for it's seed I sow in the poems I write.

  I walk up to see myself look at me , I look into my eyes. Broken memories of what occured,

  broken shell of a man I am as I read what I wrote.

  It looks into my eyes , with it's treacherous eyes , It hates the heavens and it hates the skies.

  It despises the Sun that hides at my sight.

  It rejects the moon and it's pathetic moonlight.

  It rejects the crowds , it rejects the world , it rejects being forsaken

  and chooses isolation.

  It writes In red for the hate that it bears.

  It switches to black for the darkness within.

  The paper becomes black and so does my room.

  We lock eyes and I see it now. It's those dead eyes .

  The eyes of my lover that I last saw , it burns into my mind

  a memory that I despise. I give into this maniacal temptation,

  this energy of death , that I feel from within.....

  Vosk keeps writing , his poems lacked rhyme and structure , but they were emotional to him. He wasn't writing for the world anymore. He was pouring his heart out , he was venting his anger and giving his suffering any meaning he could.

  Vosk didn't stop at those two poems. He felt like a hole had opened up inside him that he had to fill with ink. For days, he stayed in his room. His friends would bring him food, but he would only take a few bites before pushing the plate away.

  He became thin; his cheekbones poked out, and the scar on his nose looked darker against his pale skin. He looked like a corpse that was still moving.

  The room became a mess of paper. Hundreds of poems covered the floor and the workbench. He didn't care about the rhyme or the structure anymore.

  He just wanted to find the right words so he could finally feel at ease. He wanted to reach a masterpiece that would make all this pain worth something.

  On the final night, Vosk sat at his desk. He felt very light, almost as if he were floating. He picked up his quill and wrote one last poem.

  When he finished, he didn't feel angry or forsaken. He felt quiet. He called out to his friend in the other room, his voice raspy and weak.

  "I've done it," Vosk said with a small smile. "I finally wrote it."

  His friend looked at him, worried by how frail he looked. "That's good, Vosk. Now, please, just go to sleep. You need rest."

  Vosk nodded. He walked over to his bed and lay down. As he closed his eyes, he didn't see the dark room or the messy papers.

  He remembered Eura's face from the day they first met, before the blood, before the mansion. He whispered her name one last time and fell into a deep sleep.

  The next morning, his friend knocked on the door. "Vosk? Are you awake?"

  There was no answer. His friend thought Vosk was just exhausted from the days of writing, so he left him alone.

  But when evening came and the room stayed silent, his friend grew worried. He slammed his shoulder into the door until it broke open.

  Vosk was still in his bed. He looked peaceful, but his skin was cold. He had passed away in his sleep. His friends gathered around, checking his pulse and calling his name, but Vosk was gone. He had died alone in that room, dreaming of a happy ending that he never got to have in this life.

  They decided to bury him in the open field where he used to wait for the moon. They gathered every single paper from his room and had them published in a book.

  The world loved his poems; they called him a genius. His work became a masterpiece that everyone talked about, but Vosk wasn't there to hear it. He was finally at rest, perhaps in another universe where he and Eura could finally be together.

  I've finished the lines, I've emptied the pen,

  I don't feel the weight of the "why" or the "when."

  I looked at the sun and I looked at the blue,

  But every word written was looking for you.

  I'm leaving the world of the little and cold,

  To find the stories that we never told.

  I don't hate the sky or the moon anymore,

  I'm walking away through an open door.

  If you find this paper, don't cry for my sake,

  My fragile heart was easy to break.

  I'm going to sleep where the sky is always red,

  With the ghost of your love inside of my head.

  These were the last lines he of his masterpiece, a message to Eura. After years of struggle when the book was published , Eura was the first buyer. We see Eura reading the book as 7 year old Theia rests in her lap. Reading his book , along with his child, Eura smiles , filled with emotions to the brim.

  Theia was the only memory she had left of Vosk, their daughter. Unknown to the world or her husband Marcus.