There was once a little boy.
He dream of being nothing.
that might sound like weird, but, he had no wishes for the future, he had no aspirations, he was happy, even thought he cried every night, out of pure and painful sadness, so deep, he could feel true pain, as if blades sharp cut him strongly, he was happy, he knew it, and he never wished that to end. The days were gold, the world colorful, the lights were bright, even food was better tasting.
even food was better tasting.
He knew thought, that it all would end, he knew that friendship, that kinship, the bright and colorful days would end, he knew the doom that awaited him, yet he keept on smiling. he enjoyed, he laughed, he did everything he could to take all that up to the maximun and so he was glad.
he is still so glad, that he feels happiness when he goes back to his memories, under the cerulean skies, his past, in his mind, is view through a colorful and bright shade of gold.
He knew, knew that time would bring it, yet, he believed not in time, believed not in god, believed in nothing, nothing but the fun and happiness of his days, it was the only thing he had.
He had no family, lived with his parents, but, was all alone, he was not raised a man, he was not raised for the human world, he was raised by nature, by the mother earth herself, he did not wished for wealthy, he did not wished for fame, he did not knew what was prestige, he was not raised to live in the world of men.
Time passed by.
The boy died.
Became a undead, roaming the world, shining as the sun, making it better, following the light of a far off dream.