There once was a boy,
In this perfect world that everybody lived in. Every person could find their place or just travel until they would. Love was found every where, you could see it in the eyes of men, women and children. Dreams were fulfilled, people were happy, so why in a perfect world, do we tell this story about a happy boy? Well he was happy, but not normal, not like everyone else normal. In every story there must be a balance, like in every world and if the balance get's too one sided. Well, not too long until someone will bring the balance back. With everyday he grew and with every negative response he got, he felt like he was pushed and bullied, day by day, he failed seeing the points of those that pushed him time after time. His understanding was short of logic and reason, the pieces didn't make any sense, nothing had it's place. Day after day he asked around to find that piece that could tie at least two pieces together, but he failed to find them. He tried for years, through puberty, and even after. Getting himself closed in a corner of a house, trapped and short in sight.
The moon became his best friend, the voice of reason was agreeing with him saying "Why are they doing this? It's harmful!". The moon always told him: "The universe might seem to be a mess, but everything has it's point and everything is in it's place.". Starting to thing that he's crazy, talking to the moon and himself trying to figure out what's wrong with him or the world. Frustration was building up inside him, stress was killing him, no one understood him, so short was this young man to snapping and losing it. He never understood why it was him, that couldn't do one thing right? How come in this perfect world this amazing universe, made the most imperfect man there could be? He needed relief and the only way he knew to express himself was by writing, he began writing lyrics, stories, he wrote everything down that hurt him. So he wrote songs two a day, stories more than you could ever read in two life times. His way of dealing with the world didn't change anything, but freed him, at least for a minute of peace, until everything crashed again. Escaping was no option ,there was no place to run, even though he began to roam the world.
Years of writing and traveling and he still didn't understand how in this world, the only thing he got was hate or rejection. He knew people weren't against him, but they were for themselves. With every dream crushed and every negative response, he managed to get back on his feet. Because the only thing he desired was to find that one place, that had love for him, that understood what he wanted. That dream of building a world around a person, and every time their world would collapse to rebuild it. Even at the thought of knowing that there is such a place, his power grew stronger and stronger. And his sight was narrower and narrower by day. Until the faithful day when he collapsed on his knees screaming: "If there is one person, in this world..." and thus giving his last breath, dying somewhere unheard as the man that love would call him his hero.
The story says that there was no one since him to give such love to the world, because no one ever heard of him and no one knew him. He was a silenced romantic that died for love, but noticed by nobody.
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