This is a world in which no one is born, could you think of such a place. A world that has been forgotten, or to many people, a world that never even existed. The forgotten world is my world, it is a world that has ended and there is no one here but me. This world is beautiful but there is nothing but a small wooden table and a chair. Outside is a vast plain with nothing. The building is old and there is no telling of when it was built. I live here alone. I sometimes go outside to pick necessities, but there is no one out side either.

But, within the faint illumination are small lights flying, it is truly a wonderful sight, and I could watch it forever. I pick up branches, nails and many other things, it's to make a friend. But will the one being born be happy, I have some doubt in mind.

I believe my time in this world is coming to an end, with this world ending, it's winter snows and snows until there is nothing left. I cannot move or do anything else. I just sleep, I fall into my endless sleep. But I have heard of a new world, a world which is warmer and livelier, a world where no one is alone. I shall go there, I have an ability of making new things. I can make something, something that will making me swore through the skies, to take me away from this forgotten world, a world where there is only me. But I have to do it, before my time comes to an end. I know I can make it, to a world, that has not been forgotten.