Death is silent, cold, and lonely. Death speaks no words but the
whisper in your ear that it is your time. Death is and it is not, death is
nothing but a seize to live, an advance to the next level of life. So why
would one fear death other then the pain and suffering, well after Erik
passed on he soon found that he was no longer forced into being alone
Erik died, but yet he lived more then life could, except. He advanced into another life passed his purpose here and found his centre. He was no longer a soul of sorrow, or a life of being condensed.
When Erik died, people of hatred found a whole within themselves, a certain kind of regret and question of themselves.
Its been 75 years since Erik died, his tombstone not once was visited, his mask and cape still lye within the coffin as were the only remains. the children of the children of those hateful people still feel the scare that there grandparents left them. The emptiness, and sorrow of a man who was never allowed to live because of hid difference.
Erik died, but yet he lived more then life could, except. He advanced into another life passed his purpose here and found his centre. He was no longer a soul of sorrow, or a life of being condensed.
When Erik died, people of hatred found a whole within themselves, a certain kind of regret and question of themselves.
Its been 75 years since Erik died, his tombstone not once was visited, his mask and cape still lye within the coffin as were the only remains. the children of the children of those hateful people still feel the scare that there grandparents left them. The emptiness, and sorrow of a man who was never allowed to live because of hid difference.