Burning is deafening. All your thoughts are a whirlpool of emotions as the fire roars around you, engulfing you, razing you, drowning you.
Only this time, it's not in your head. The stench of your decay takes full control over your senses until you fall to your knees; a mere mortal with no salvation.
You burn for all the people you couldn't love and all the things you couldn't become. You burn away their disappointment, your agonies, but they only fuel your destruction. You burn until I watch you reduce yourself to ashes, and you float away in the dying breeze.
You are but dust and shadows. A mere whisper of the God you once used to be.
YOU ARE READING
Unturned stones
RandomI speak for those who can't, won't, shouldn't, etc. I also speak for myself. Because why the heck not?
