"I'm tired..." He said to him, "I'm really tired..."
"But..." He said to him, "don't you love me?"
His love for him was like a moth rushing to a flame, yearning for it, but never being able to touch it; even if it was finally touched, it would only lead to death. The love that flies into the flame is the entanglement of love and pain; it is the road of no return that will eventually lead to destruction.
Conception: