Abberation

I'd dwell in silence just to let myself breathe and set myself free from all the bewitched ruthless young hearts, assuming their guilty pleasures in young love.

I'd ride the never ending mountains and come across all the mythical subjects ever created by men, or I'll set myself barefoot on the highways, let it be under the scorching sun where the road, the crust of the earth's surface successfully cooked, and my plush skin would blister and eventually burnt by the heat, producing, causing red liquid to leak out from the cracks of my feet, leading trails of blood, towards where I am heading. Which dimension I am occupying next. 

They'd follow me, for no reason, without having a proper cause. See, they thought what awaits for them at the end of the line is miracles and granted wishes. While all along it was just a hamartia, an illusion, oblivion, set by myself, for myself and myself only to suffer. And for their foolish act, they'd waver in desperation wanting what they expected and only be grant with disappointments