Grave
Ashes flew through the sky like birds migrating. A boy sat in front of a fire, trying to get warm. He was tired and cold.
He never killed anyone, but spilled enough blood to be classified as a murderer. People came and went but he said that he wasn't a person. He had spilled to much blood.
He missed the past, but it was gone. He said 'rest in peace' to his friends and the past.
He said goodbye to his family.
He gave up on life.
He thought that everything would be alright. But it wasn't. He didn't put a flower on the gravestone of any of his friends or family.
He was an only child now. And now he was sitting in his house, underneath his past.
He never saw the past. He thought it went by to fast. But he knew that he spilled blood.
It was dark. It was his torture.
His friends said 'Life's black and white'. He said 'Black and white my ass'.
And in the moments he was wrong. The moments that seemed so long, he waited to the tick tock of the clock until the moment was wong.
He didn't want to go back.
He thought that everything would be alright. But it wasn't. He didn't put a flower on the gravestone of any of his friends or family.
His conciouns never told him anything anymore.
When he lied, it didn't work at all.
When he said stay away, he meant it.
He was raised by crimminal ways.
If he never saw her face, though, he would never be the same. Since she changed his ways.
He thought that everything would be alright. But it wasn't.
Silver didn't put a flower on the gravestone of any of his friends or family when they died.