PARADISE: WRATH OF CHILDREN [COMPLETED]

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

TO MY OTHER HALF

“If I were to hear the voice of the wind and tell no man, I would have to sacrifice myself to get you through the bridge of death. If the smell of your blood had to bring me misery and regret, I should not let you near my heart full of stones, needles, and heaviness. A soul once broken leaves a swollen ground with no seed to saw at the end of the season, a man’s greatest fear. If I were to ride a horse and it tossed me of, I should not stop because of the pain but because I have learnt to ride and no longer fall off.

Purpose, regret and faith can be part of you but who you are, you the only one who knows the truth. The truth that would keep me awake at the latest hours and earliest hours of my youth or my old age, that traps both my worlds at once and begs me to choose one. A confusion to men and women who have known nothing of losing nor reading nor feeling lost nor shadows dance for him at his sleep because he no longer sleeps but imagines too much than that, no men or creature might understand my words that strike the most important treasure my body had to carry. My heart, my heart full of stones, needles and heaviness.

For I have witness a war with myself and never won nor laid it to rest I still wake up and check if it still beat or I have lost the little I had, the little my cover of leaves have managed to save. But is it enough? Enough for me to sleep like a normal man, a normal man I have never been but think is deep down, buried by my pain and web that no man can take out but I saw you remove it once. I breathe, I slept and dreamt I was back with you in my soft, fragile and delicate heart I have sought courage to let you peak.

A peak I don’t regret but rather hate myself for taking. For I have not waken up in bed without thinking of a better half I could be beside you.

-Robin Tannic,” Paul softly read the small book.

He violently tossed it aside fighting the urge to scream his lungs out through the realization he had stolen a useless book. “What now?” he angry asked himself, moving up his knees to bury his face underneath.

Author's Note🦋

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