Only can see is darkness. I can feel a cold piece of metal against my back and an old wooden dock beneath my feet. The smell of salt and sand fill my nose, my hair flies freely and I can hear the songs sung  from the flying birds above. I have no memory of how I got here or why am here and I can sense that I should be afraid. The blackness is removed from my face and floats way with the gentle breeze that softly floats by. I can see the picture that I painted in my mind splayed before me. I see no one. Everywhere I look is empty and I still feel anxious and scared. Finally, I see someone. Standing at the end of the dock, you turned to face me. I relax. For I know I am safe with you and you would never let anything hurt me, but as you come near, I get an unsure feeling. That's when I noticed a pain in my hands and feet, and a smile upon your face. I try to escape the pain but I am tied down and strapped into this chair you put me in. I was wrong about you. Your smile grows more intense, and at that moment, I realize this had been your plan all along. I realize that this has been another sick game to you. The pain intensifies and spreads like wild fires burning up each nerve, devouring each part of me quickly. You approach me with words on your lips just crawling to reach my ears. With your face just inche's from mine you whisper, "It was all a lie. You ment nothing. You are nothing. How can you be so stupid? Good luck putting yourself back together this time." You give me a meaningless kiss while I'm biting my tongue, holding back a scream. I'm starting to fade in and out of consciousness. It looking through blurry tears, I watch you glide away with that crooked smile still displayed in your face. You sharply turn around and look me head to toe, watch me be swallowed by the flames filled with pain. You open your mouth and say one last thing, "I love you", you tell me with a teasing tone and a half chuckle. Then with that smile never leaving sight and everything falls black again. And all I can see, is darkness.

Cornered. Backed against a brick wall. Nowhere to climb, nowhere to turn. Too late for anyone to help you. When you try screaming no sound comes out. Even if you were to scream, no one would hear you this abandoned place. You see shadows emerging from the distance. Your fall to your knees baking for one last chance for forgiveness, knowing what's about to come your way. As the shaddows get closer, you find instant beauty in everything surrounding you and no longer feel the need to scream. Shadows close enough to touch you, that you take in all the beauty and surrender your all.

Lost, hopeless, ready to surrender. The final seconds. The day when you come to the overlooking balcony to raise that small piece of cloth that is isolated and alone, colorless and blank. When you stand before then and take your final breathes as an individual ready to lose the game completely, to protect others, and to save them from the pain and hurt you are about to absorb. The sacrifice and bravery no one will ever know. Your name, never to be remembered again. You wonder if someday you will be famous for your novel action, or if you will just be another character in your grandfathers bedtime story. You are shaken back I the present and remember why you are standing here. You take your next step forward. All you hear is nothing but silence and your own heat beating faster and faster as the seconds on the clock tick by. You hear the sound if your shoes scraping against the tiny rocks under your feet, you finally trench the balcony, cloth still in hand, about to stand for what you believe in. With all eyes on you, you slowly raise that soulless cloth into the air. With eyes closed and God by your side, it all ends.

I can feel the warm grains beneath my feet and between my toes. I can feel the salty breeze floating in my hair and settling somewhere far away. I can feel the sharp bite of the clear water splash against my ankles and my thoughts sink away to the beautiful memories we had under the bright bubble in the sky. I Feel the warmth from your skin and the comfort from your touch. Feel the butterflies caused by the look in your eyes, and my knees quaking with each spell binding smile. Feel your hold on me grow with each word pulling me close. Feel your safety from your strong arms around me. Feel your chest rise and fall with each enchanting breath. All too quickly the bright bubble in the sky pops and I'm drowned back to where the blue monster now surrounds me, lapping up past my chest feeling the chill stiffen my senses. The dark beast beacons me out farther despite my warning urge to fight the unwanted creature.  The sensation pulls me farther out into oblivion. The fact of the sorrowful chill indulging me to the point of numbness is inevitable. I'm stuck in a trance of the dark monster with no escape. Hearing the sound of destruction deriving from the distant clashing of anger against sharp rocks. The warmth is gone replaced with an icy shrill while my hair gets thrashed around by the wrath of this unforgiving creature indulging in my confused pain. For the anger knows no mercy as I feel the rough touch of death dancing upon my skin. All at once, as if I'm left with no choice, I give in to the blissful surrender wished upon me. For I am no longer restrained by the blue monster but have now confronted the dark beast and welcomed it home, as I bring myself to rest no longer lingering on the plain. For you, my dark beast, have returned

For who am I to judge another sinner in front of God. For who am I to feel pain for foolish actions done for misguided reasons. For who am I to be selfish for I have no reason to suffer. For I am not to play God in this game of black and white. For I am in no position to have sympathy and pity thrown upon me. For I am not the soul that should have wishes wasted upon. For what does a blind man wish for except for the sight of others. For what does a deaf child see but the joys of sound. For what does a true sufferer feel except for the selfishness of her own desires of hope casted away by times of neglection. For I know not of answers to prayers begged upon the broken sky's rays of sunlight. For I know not of the reasons for tears blood and death but only ones inner beast looking for it's fountain to Eldorado. For I know not of the amount of hurt in ones shattered soul to the point of rest. For who is anyone to judge another sinner in the hands of God. For Who is any one to play God in the game of black and white except for the one who sees grey. For who is anyone to think they know their purpose before fulfilling their task to reach the true wealth. For why do I suffer, for what is my journey, for who am I?

Seasons come and go but the feelings of those changing leaves remain. For they never die but simply change colors into a form unrecognizable to the following time to come. There comes a time for the pain and sadness felt in the chill of the sharp wind that seeps beneath your coat felt by the gentle touch upon your skin. And the grieving becomes masked by a joyful smile full of rebirth and colorful buds that form from the memories of the previous temperatures. Your aura becomes bright for you can feel those butterflies glistening on each flower awaiting for the birds to fall in love and start the next chapter. For the flowers will suddenly reach the height of their beauty and slowly fall into crispy colors of oranges and browns. It all happens so quickly that all too soon your left with nothing but an empty skeleton surrounded by glorious colors that only resemble the memories that came before but leave the following seasons unrecognizable. For the cycle will repeat yet each time we will feel lost and hopeless for what may come next. Seasons may come and go but the brilliant changing colors will always remain a mystery to those who come after.

History can be a scary thing. Repeating history, remembering history, experiencing history. How such a small mistake can lead to such a big consequence. Something you did such a long time ago still haunting your every more. Daring faith, testing trust, and revealing hope. You can't take back that unspeakable thing but only accept what is and take what u must. How can one live with the secrets hidden only for the purpose of none knowing of such thing that causes suffering. Once an action is done, it can not be taken back for it is engraved in the stone of our past, our history. Once a word is spoken it can not be replaced for it lingers in the stale air  sending chills up your spine and creeping into the back of your mind. We must find a way to accept the inevitable of what is and what was by attempting to hide our pains in a laughter of false truths. The paradox it's self explains the meaning behind the truth of our history.