Colours of Life.

A fire burns to light the darkness but only it’s immediate surroundings, what’s left is our blind hope that we will find our way. Magnificently written, a midnight fire.

Wandering With Words

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“The stone rolled aside and I was born again.”

Memories have become vague.

But I remember lying in bed, scared. On a hot summer day, covered in sheets, I waited for sleep – the only reprieve for my dying soul. I pulled the sheets over my head and tried hard to hold back the tears that fought wildly.

What happened? Why the betrayal?

Strange cruel people in my dream repeated these questions. They cudgeled me with it and I couldn’t find an answer.

It was the moment in life when every breath you take hurts. The darkness around me screamed. In the land of grief, once again, I began to cry.

And then I heard the noise. It started soft but then slowly, as if to remind me of my grief, it turned violent.

My fingers closed into fists and my nails dug into my palm. I wished that it…

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