Tales of complacency and fragmented souls.
The dark nights were filled with taunting dreams, the days with utter longing. Loneliness, once a hunger in me, subsides and gives way to emptiness, a riptide in a sea of darkness that takes in all I have obtained. The unshattered lives of those surrounding me cause pity from a condensed mind, from a shadowed soul. Sorrow is beautiful in all its entirety; it lures one into a life where happiness is an unfeasible thought, an illusion of an overly hopeful soul; whereas contentment is within our reach, it is just enough to satiate our hungering souls. It is a looking glass, allowing us to see the pure intentions and marvel in the meaning of all unseen. It is a token to a life rich in knowledge and dripping with understanding, yet it reeks of stagnancy and desolation. For angels are few and hard to find, and my broken wings, beyond repair, set me apart from those soaring around me. I remain fixed to the ground, where I have found I belong.