Lonely.

I’m, so lonely I always wonder why God has created me when I’m all doing is suffering. I’m a bird with wings, but for some reason I cannot fly, no matter how hard I attempt. Witnessing, other people flying ahead me. Even though I am inaudible, my mind is screaming, my heart it is weeping. Even if I can fly I still cannot reach them, because they flew too far. My body is empty, I cannot feel anything as if soulless. That is what happen, I can see my soul escaping my body. What can I do as I shouted, again “What can I do”. Hopeless. It is everything is hopeless, there is no point I tell you because what is the point of having wings if you cannot fly, what is the point of having mind if you cannot think, what is the point of living life when life is living you. What is the point of believing in God? When the Almighty creator is the devil. What is the point? I have been repeating that question my whole life; I’m left without an answer.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

Every day I visit the grave yard, because I have now realised if I’m hollow in the holy light. Then I’m must be sincere in darkness. Darkness is the truest light of hope, when entered I see everything that I wasn’t able to see. I can see what God has been hiding from the world. I can see this twisted world truest colours. Let me tell you it is colour-less, it is just a prism that is absorbing our darkness and lightness. Creating a colour that cannot be explained only experienced.