It's time. I look back. I came a long way through. I turn to look. I find a wall before me.
No more steps to take. Now my life stops. My consciousness fades. No reasons. No feelings. Silence.
Stepping in a cold fridge is the only thing you can do before a wall. Specially that kind of wall. Lie back. Your trip starts. Ending up healed with pain or cold as rain that pours on the sand in vain. A trip no one would willingly choose, but I do out of obedience. But I am not convinced. Not my desire. Walking a path I never chose and an end I never knew. Stone heart. Beat no more. Precious gold covering. Peel off.
Life, You Killer of the living. You reviver of memories. Creator of pain. Earth, Scrambler of friends. Time, You thief of opportunities and robber of youth. How much time do I have to stand up against all of you? Am I your rival or another one of your victims.
Lord, God. What now?
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