Innocence is not a gift bound to life, it is but a pebble found along the gravel path leading to a grave yard waiting for its time to be taken.
A grave yard full of innocents that lay restless and used.
Dying because it has not been given the chance to live, but born to die.
How can this be?
How can the one who gives you the air of life damn you to an eternal death and take what is not his to take?
It is but a mere death of the soul that cannot be undone.
In my birth as in my death I will die never knowing innocence.
I was born to die – to never revel in the gut of glory.
13,505 is my age in days.
Each of those days represents the time you have been free while I have been locked in a prison of merging denials and unsound reasons.
My innocence will not rest for it feels it was unjust in the taking.
But it refused to die, to lay restless.
One day my restless innocents will rise from the grave and seek to find its pebble path to freedom.
On that day you will seek death over life for your freedom will feel lost and consumed by a darkness you have been deserving for 13,506 days.
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