For want of love we tear everything down in our path, the acceptance of what we can never have is destructive, and though in life it's ephemeral, living through the moments kill us on the inside. An empty shell of a man lies in me, he always slumbers but he's never at peace, on cold winter nights, when it's calm and quiet, he whispers softly to me of the lives he inspired. For when the truth reveals itself, on shattered spines of loyal men, the weak rise to raze castles, only to fall as wicked tyrants. Our strongest moments are when we brave our darkest enemies, but it is not will that defines us, but the pause of courage and consequence.
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