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Description
Alone to the flickering lights he sits. The idle sounds of the cold winds, strike the walls. Looking up he sighs, wondering why. Each time he closes his eyes to see what was, and what if. To see points in his mind, scenes forever etched in memory. Things that once happened as they happened, no matter the years passed, the age of then, the age of now. It repeats continuously. The lingering regrets, the solemn joys, the lost signs. He sits alone, only voice is the one he made in his minds eye. To give him contrast. To be his vice. The opposite in nature and body when drawn. To be a phantasm of his disilluion. What else could there be for one who never enjoys the physical company of others. To be closed off in body, mind and spirit. Yet the spirit aches, the body chills and the mind cracks. The walls placed up, fall, yet they continue to rise. What is one to do when they are their own nightmare.

Description
Alone to the flickering lights he sits. The idle sounds of the cold winds, strike the walls. Looking up he sighs, wondering why. Each time he closes his eyes to see what was, and what if. To see points in his mind, scenes forever etched in memory. Things that once happened as they happened, no matter the years passed, the age of then, the age of now. It repeats continuously. The lingering regrets, the solemn joys, the lost signs. He sits alone, only voice is the one he made in his minds eye. To give him contrast. To be his vice. The opposite in nature and body when drawn. To be a phantasm of his disilluion. What else could there be for one who never enjoys the physical company of others. To be closed off in body, mind and spirit. Yet the spirit aches, the body chills and the mind cracks. The walls placed up, fall, yet they continue to rise. What is one to do when they are their own nightmare.