wouldn’t it be convenient?
to have someone else suffer the pain for you
to have someone else hurt and bleed in your place
wouldn’t the world be a better place then?
you will no longer hate and be hated
you will no longer cry and be cried for
someone fighting our battles for us
someone taking the bullet and pulling the trigger
wouldn’t our hands be a little cleaner then?
one who could never die
one who would never taste the bitterness of death and inexistence
one who will be forever grateful that you’ve given him a chance to exist
one who would never hate and leave you for what you have done
for what you have become
someone in the far reaches of our own imagination
kept safe by the ancient magic that we call dreams
beyond the valleys of old
beyond the plains of seething envy
past the beating core of the Seer’s heart