‘Tis i wrote an hour ago, and… well, just read it, if you want and if you dare. I’m not exactly satisfied with this, to be honest, but then again, it’s yours to read and decide.
Strolling along the narrow path, dimly lit by the wind-blown candles of the graves, strolling i wandered and wondered hour-long, wondered at the cruelty of life, questioning answers no mortal ever dared to question before, and even the most wicked ghosts haunting the hollow echoes of the cemetery avoided my way, as my gaze shot across their spectral forms. Although for many the graveyard is a field of untold horrors, for me now it’s a place of greatest comfort, where my spirit could finally find that often-mentioned peace the dead was meant to rest in, that living quiet I always need. One may only sense that vast hatred that creates that bothering feel of unease if he enters the place where the departed rule with the disgusting smell of loathe. But I entered with no such feelings, or rather without a single thought, just the only wish to be alone. This they granted me, as they know that feel more than anyone here in this decaying world of sorrow, and understood me as no one else could, when my heart was closer to dead than alive, frozen and shattered into countless pale white petals. The timeless world of the deceased let me join its spheres while I collected the shards of my life and made them one again. The wildest apparitions raging around me I still, still just trode my endless path on the ledge of life and death, greeting all the stars one by one, entrusting a bit of my pain onto each of them. This way, sharing it with their ever-understanding infinity, seemed the torturing grief making me human, the sorrow that’s humanity itself almost bearable. The chilling pats of the dead numbed my thoughts, but I didn’t care, as I was on my way home, home, where then I would spend hours alone, blankly staring into the dark, with my mind flying far, in the heights where only I could fly, with my friends, solitude, grief and silence as my guides.