An abandoned world a running loner stumbles on, where one empties their colorless emotions, remains of bruised heart
and oceans of muffled miseries;
is the book your eyes just greeted.
"Life stitches dark tatooes on the naked human soul, where...
Where again from the rush, of chock-full problems I kill and kill? Why, just resting in a flash, emerging and flying are obstacle's quills; attacking my combating neutrophils?
Problems in ignition, quickly sparked is a decision. To fight is the task. Murdering obstacle, it falls back. Another reappear; two in one in a mask? "But where from the double trouble?" I ask.
What is likely the factor? The turning page of my life chapter? My unshaped emotional character; who's not used to nature's fighting skills? When obstacle's quills refills?
I'm understanding what goes on day in day out. I'm seeing far from south, with my mind's eye vision. Ready to complete my life mission.
Short days are swelling centuries, revolving in time's countries. Long nights are speeding decades, wearing deep dark facades. So does incoming regrowing obstacle, is an opportunity and overcoming it's flying quills, is a responsibility. The only way to accomplish, unending problematic life mission.
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