He sheaths his sword, he mounts his steed, and he rides away as fast as he possibly can. He flees because he knows he cannot win this battle - his demons have revealed themselves and he was utterly unprepared for the terror of their haunting. Those he leaves behind shall surely not understand, for he is incapable of fully explaining it. He is simply the boy who shall wander till the stars lead him home, because sometimes it is better to walk away than to spill blood and shed tears. They will meet again, for sure, yet as of now it is perhaps better if there are no traces of him left. It is clear that his truth and yours are vastly different, and that no amount of rationalizing would equalize them. In the end, all he has, is a story he tells himself time after time, until he forgets that it is a lie.
I think I'm one of those people that feeds off destruction. Someone who looks for carnage and finds enjoyment diving into the wreckage of burnt down dreams. I'm someone who can fall in love with a single look, and fall out of it with one word. Someone who can make all your fantasies come true, but in the same breath be nothing like you ever imagined. I am someone who takes pride in his ability to survive, to endure, and above all, to not just overcome, but become better with each passing day, each passing hour, each passing moment. I am someone who does his best work in chaos. But chaos isn't a pit. Chaos is a ladder. Many who try to climb it, fail, and they never get to try again - the fall breaks them. Some are given a chance to climb, but they refuse, because they would rather cling to the universe, to love, to illusions. Only the ladder is real, the climb is all there is.
