Through this pain, this suffering those who survive grow strong, arrogant even, yet he, he was left behind, that facade those prompt up as a truth to embolden the weak are null, a numerical zero.
He survived. For what? For more of the same? The same suffering the same mirror of the past to pave his future?
He waited even then yet he grew no strength, no power no arrogance, he was not smart, he did not excel at anything, no one came, not even him.
He could not save himself, he was a coward scared to look towards to light that encapsulated his back, that crept upon the crevasses of darkness within him, he neglected it.
He became a hunter, a coward of a hunter, he was payed peanuts for his work, yet he berated the men not, he continued, for what else could he do? He had no strength no vision, no...