User:Fuzzyofthefall

Hopes and dreams eventually die over time, but the sorrow and endless misery of days past stays lurking inside, haunting and eating away at the few traces of sanity that could diminish at any moment.

Men who run from their past really aren't running from anything but the blackened darkness that eats away at their mortal soul. In the end, we can only run from ourselves for so long before the torches from the past burn bright enough to remind us of what we cannot forget. How long have I been running for?