glance at the constraints of nothingness-I see him struggle, chained to the walls bleached with agony, whitewashed with pain, scathed with sins-the undesirable plight
I cannot help the boy, because he is but a silhouette, mirroring my actions, reflecting this dramatic scene, painting the outline of the shadows, shame enshrouding this pitiful picture..
But I can help myself, can't I?
I just feel so insignificant today, as my foresight of the world expands into the unknown and the knowledge that so many superpowers lay before my very sight undermined my existence. Have I really made my purpose? Have I really laid a legacy? Who am I?
They tell me we are nothing but soldiers of the Lord and I agree with heartfelt understanding but that is not the only thing that defines me. I have yet to carve this mark of mine, expound the passion for power, to convert this energy into true meaning..
I sleep in my pain, avoiding the truth, but you cannot run if you lie--wake up and fly into the endless night...