Story Line

The dark has won, and I am only a shadow of what I once was my life is but my distant past to thin for me to grasp and to fast for me to see. I am only a mirror image of what I was to be, so close but so far even as it leaves its damage as a scar so quick it tightens on my weakened heart. With every murmur, my pulse slows my vital organs shut down and the end comes close I can see the empty spaces within my mind the start to fill with flashes of my past and all that would leave me blind for all my worldly problems have left me in a bind. This is what the world did for me, this is all you will find. This shows my liking for the death of man kind for with every breath my voice would become pained , as the thoughts of my death show nothing but shame and how the sweet nothings did nothing but wither away in vain every word you said would have eventually driven me insane. For this world is nothing with out the suffering and hate but what type of life would this make?