Thoughts.

Game Over

Why do we play a game that no one knows the rules of, the one in which no one can win, the one in which everybody gets hurt?

I don't want to play anymore. I don't want to sink in a pit of immorality. I don't want to hurt you anymore and I don't want to be in pain.

This is a game where we claw at each other's souls with words, where we spar with embraces, where we render with silence.

I don't want this for either of us anymore.

Because what is this game that we all play? Have the prophets of the old played the same game? I don't think so; no I don't. Why would they want to hurt? Why do we? What is this game where we toy with emotions and feelings?

Like in monopoly, we sell ourselves and break or either bathe in money that is attention we never wanted anyway. We laugh at our disgrace, and then wonder why we are crying at the end of the day.

I can see the darkness of your once shimmering eyes. I remember they were eyes of innocence; black crystals of pristine light. I would have loved to embraced them hadn't I known of their fate. Beauty that would diminish within time.

Our children are molded by the hatred of our world that has sunk in a game that we play. I wonder what love is like on other worlds, where they learn to trust one another without pressing a knife on the backs of each other. Or without saying they loved each other and looking away; sort of like you did the other day.

My, my, my...this is simply a mess. Darling, you and I are just like the rest. Apart from the fact that I want this to change, and think that the whole world secretly does as I - praying and hoping that we won't be the same. I want us to bleed giving to each other. I want us to be content with what we hold because, verily, most of us desire the best for ourselves, but won't care about being the best for that one special other. 'But then again', they think, 'why should we bother?' What a perverse thought. How selfish. How terrifying. Have we all gone insane?

But that is why we were sent here in the first place. We are lazy, careless and thoughtless. So what is the definition of being a good soul?

I fear of giving my soul to another. It would start rotting the moment it sat in their hand. And it would be the fate of so many others so why won't they understand? The soul was not meant to be given to anyone but its Owner.

So who can I trust? Who can I give my love to without being destroyed? Tell me, young soul. Tell me before you go cold.

For verily, I will not play the game of who cared less. I'd rather much not communicate instead.