Syncopate

 

Forgive me. I know my place yet I dare walk a path which is not mine.

Blame me for all the faults but not for the happiness. The happiness is your burden as it will always be a reward for me. You, who have unknowingly trudged up a sullen path of brightness, have found a wanderer. A wanderer who have grown weary of idealism and all its devious minions. You drew with your presence a smile long lost in a jungle of miseries. A smile, albeit resembling a grimace, that would soon blossom into laughter and from that, happiness. You have seeded that and that is your burden. It is not up to me to cultivate and nurture that seedling. You have sown it and it is by your will that it should survive or rot.

Forgive me for unwittingly bestowing upon you the load of that responsibility.

I assume not that you shall care for that seedling nor do I conclude that you shall abandon it. At the very least, I shall expect, and the most, I shall hope. A wretched creature such as I, I write this to tip a careful balance. The seedling of a smile speaks not as it has no voice of its own. For it, I shall act as a medium that should function only to relay a message from it and, partially, a message from me.

The indignity of this pains me but what can I do? Plenty others have already jumped off the deep end and all I can do is to pen out my droning narrative.

Again, forgive me. My existence, for what it’s worth, is like that of the rest that exist in this vast world. I claim not that I am higher nor the otherwise. Similarly, my soul, if it exists, is like that of the next, only battered to an untraceable but evident extent. You may disregard my call, as you may have done to others before me. I’ll accept it although not as gracefully as the world expects. I repeat, I know my place and that place is nowhere near where I want to be. Given that, my plea for the smile and for myself manifests itself in faults. Even though there is nothing for you to gain, I pray you save an enfeebled soul. By what means then, should you ask. By letting grow that seedling of a smile into a mighty tree of radiant happiness. Shorten a burden by weaving a thread to hold.

Forgive me for my fault of knowing no love yet loving nonetheless.

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About kyogakura
Bored 95% of the time.

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