Imperfectness

A sudden surge of imperfectness jolts him back to reality. The land of dreams never did exist, just the sordid facts of his life.


How he wished that dreams were his reality. To touch, feel, smell, the perfectness he dreams of. But these are just apparitions to his poisoned mind, merely mocking every fibre of his being. Leading him on, only for him to awake to the sickening stench that is his very existence.


This is the somber state of his life. As it is mine.