Time guarantees us experience and experiences are supposed to be lessons to guide us through the time. But now, years later after collecting skills like trophies and experiences like a burden I have learnt nothing. If this should be the end of my time I feel cheated. And foolish and inadequate. The only thing I have learnt to be true is that pain always finds a way to make itself felt. As the trembling begins in my toes and climbs up the veins in my legs, I feel the fluidity of all walls I thought I had put up. I close my eyes and try once again to find where the locks are and fly behind them. I feel it on the tips of my fingers and my nails dig deep into my palms. There are no doors to hide behind. I am as open as a plain as the floods rush into my head and crush my heart. And the pain that comes is like a blow from god. It burns a thousand fires in my chest and I feel my brain slip into madness. But still, from somewhere, I scream. Maybe seeking an outlet, I roar into the night. It is painful and desperate and it calls out to the saints in the worlds beyond. Nothing cuts quiet like the cry of a dying man. I fall to my knees and I sink into the earth. I feel the soft roar of the river in the soil throb in the distance beneath my palms. Lying here at the end of my time, my heartbeats fades.


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