An Author's Trashbin

8

A sense of self. A sense of solidification. The pieces of a puzzle falling together into perfect, complete harmony. Serenity bestowing upon a single soul, a soul whomst journey had come to an end and a new beginning at the same time.

Chaos builds in the midst of the absolute silence of peace. Seeping through the almost healed cracks of humanity, tainting what was turning pure again. Black as night, shadows spreading over the redeemed, innocent soul. A soul which had not reached its final destination yet before the sad intervention of sorrow.

Lost now. Wondering the abyss with no sense of self nor direction. No purpose, no body, no ties to a physicality. No realm could hold such rawness. No realm gave home to such a soul.