Unknown to any, there I stood. Darkness is my home. It’s always there, absorbing everything I say like a sponge, yet never judging any of it. Alone, not always of my accord, yet the world is rejecting me... or am I rejecting the world?

  Like a silent prayer, I keep telling myself none of it is real, it’s all a bad dream, yet deep down I know the truth. I know it's real, but not believing it fuels me, makes me feel alive, and makes all my doubts fade away. Day by day, awaiting a fake liberation, freedom from my own mind. What is it that I want? What is it that the world wants from me? The dark hears a lot of things, yet the answer to such a question remains untold, similar to stories lost with time. They did exist, at one point, yet time led to their destruction. All things end at one point, so why should I try? My own chains keep me from going against it.

  This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Perhaps, it is my own mind that controls me into believing such things, yet who can stop it? A slave to my own being, kept between walls called ‘thoughts’. Just why?

  Don’t listen to it, wake up, wake up, this is not your world... or it is... Like a star floating through space, I drift on the waves of time, awaiting the shore called end.