I remember when I was a child.
My parents would tell me tales.
Of men dealing with demons.
In the crossroads right out of town.

And I remember quietly.
I had walked down that path too.
Not for money, talent, or fame.
I wanted to know what happiness was like.

And I never knew if I got my wish.
It always felt like things went south.
From within the abandoned crosswalks.
I could feel only sad eyes staring me down.

I felt the whispers and warnings.
Every foggy afternoon.
When I'd wish for the man to supposedly appear.
Just for a simple request.

"I only want to be happy and loved."
It seemed to echo into the neverending winter.
But I waited anyway.
I had barely any warmth to spare.

But nothing came and so I left.
And I felt the pity trail behind my back.
As I walked down the path.
That I decided to stroll down.

And my life continued to go down hill.
I am no longer so young.
I have become accustomed to this world.
To all its cruel games.

I have been broken and shattered
Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over....I have forgetten.
I am tired.

So I came back to the crossroads.
No more warmth left in my body.
I did not come with a wish this time.
Only seeking a question.

"Why did you not grant my wish?"
And I waited again by the trails.
For anybody to appear now.
Anybody who could give me answers.

"What did I do wrong?"
The trees looked at me with misery.
The clouds gave me it's soft tears.
The mist hugged me as tightly as it could.

And from within the forest.
I could hear it's voice at last.
"You did nothing wrong."
I am shattering by the seams.

"I gave you what you asked for."
Then why am I so unhappy.
"Because happiness never lasts."
Am I always going to feel hopeless?

"No."
Then what am I meant to do?
"Nothing."
I don't understand.

"Because happiness will never mean anything without the struggle."

But I am shattered now, practically dust.
"But a phoenix is also reborn from it's ashes."
I no longer carry anymore warmth.
"But a fire can always be rekindled."

Is that all my life will be worth for?
"Life is always a struggle, it is survival."
But it is not what I asked for.
"No one chooses to have it willingly."

Am I meant to live on?
"Certainly you are."
Why? Why am I meant to be here.
"Because you want to."

What If I don't want to be here anymore.
"You have meaning you always will."
I don't understand.
"Your struggle and success to survive is enough to show for it."

And I could see the soot on my feet gather.
That was when the howling stopped.
I stood there still with no answers.
As the sun began to rise.

But I had a gut feeling I would not return to the crossroads again.

-Rain