• Just any other normal day, sun glowing
    that glow down over green pastures with blooming
    wild flowers; a single hare upon the head of an ageing
    world. The hairs on my head, thin and silver, shining
    in the golden sun. Silver and gold. Deceiving
    me by thinking that I've not another thing to dread, but
    upon my head sits my most valuable item worth fighting
    for. I've everything to lose. I start walking
    but I have everywhere to go. The yellowing
    blades of grass. They cut my feet, but I'm not bleeding
    red or crimson. My soul has no colour. It has no being.
    I've sinned. I don't care. The world's mine for seeing.