I hate when I'm given things, just so they can be taken away, and even more, I hate that I'm still waiting for my happy ending. You know the one that sets us free. I've brushed its surface many times, at certain points almost claiming it as my own, but it always seems to escape my grasp. Have I ever told you how it all came to be broken? How I once gazed at the moon and saw the sun? How I once walked into the ocean and ended up on top of an iceberg? It has been so long since I've been whole that I'm starting to think that I was born torn apart. I guess sometimes men come into this world with open wounds. Maybe some of us are meant to remain shattered for the universe to make sense. My flawed design has never been so evident.
At first he thought it was a dream, and that he'll soon awake from his slumber and once again look upon the life he never got to live. But time passed by, and he was still wandering the misty fields. They were void of anything but haze and whispers of voices he once knew, he once loved. They taunted him with memories of his mistakes and with images of regrets. He was walking towards the light, it seemed so close, so within his reach, but he's been running towards it for an eternity, and still he is so far away he cannot even imagine it. The voices become screams, and he becomes a shadow of his former self. The light grows darker with every passing moment.
