The Wanderer and His Shadow

Life's pasts..

Life is cruel and harsh. It is like a thousand thorns peircing through my heart. The pain is so intense, the blood rushes out showing it's hue, and it's warmth.

Then the senses goes numb, the consiousness fades. Everything becomes unimportant, even death.

Besides your own self, there is no one you can trust anymore...

I won't need anyone to promise me anything anymore. The more promises, the more scars will be left to heal.

I wish the clock can turn itself back...

I would just be an ordinary guy on another part of the world, facing a completely different life. Maybe life would be easier without love, it is too addictive, and too poisonous.

I am too intoxicated, all drained up and dry as a bone.

For a world like this, there is no sympathy. There is no time for scars to heal.

posted by Pat @ 1:22 PM