Life is a long story about how you died. My story has started already.
I born. Then came to do all the hard work here on the earth to make thousands of memories. Die one day.
The weird thing is that i hate all this labour toil under the hot sun. The sun has burned my skin. I am so dark. Unlovable… Mine is a life in the life of the hailstones of the hailstones. All the thousand memories seems so empty. Blossom beyond blossoming i saw no flower, no spring..
Some souls never saved in memory. They are to be remembered everyday. They are loved and admired everyday. May i held on; hug you tightly and not let you go. But’ turn your eyes away. Just overcome me. Do not stare at me, i am so dark. Unlovable..
She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes
– Lord Byron