Hope

I knew the night would come.

With its gentle breeze blowing slow and cool into my wounds formed during the vicious battle i championed. Strong of the strongest my war cry roared loud and powerful as the spear rays from the sun siperced into my flesh. The slashess it caused decorated the little child in me, with red slashes that promised a subjective stand in the world of solitude and trauma in the future...
But the night came.

With its gentle breeze blowing slow and cool.