A Drab Life

In the morning I awaken to the golden rays of the sun upon my face. My eyes, feeling the gentle pain of heat which
     increases as time does, slowly open. The surroundings of the room gradually come into focus. I can see the grey
     drab walls, the hard wooden floor, the raggedy old chest and the solitary window that make up my world. 

     This is my world, my refuge, that reflects me. I am the drab, raggedy old man who inhabits this world of one
     person. Raggedy in spirit, drab in person, old in thought, my world is me and towards my world all my hatred is
     directed. 

     Already I can feel my sorrow and despair weighing against my chest. The pain is beginning to make each breath I
     take a task. To live for me is becoming a task which I perform not out of want but out of fear. I fear facing death
     with no record of life behind me. All my years of solitude are beginning to add up to one life of nothing. That one
     life of nothing is me; a nothing. 

     Each day I question myself as to why I live. And each night I lose myself to the dreams of romance. I drift and drift
     and drift until I find myself in a meadow. There I am lost among the fragrant blades of grass. All my pain of the day
     is soothed within this meadow and there I sleep within my sleep. 

     I awaken to find the sun high in the sky, filling me with youth and vitality. Running wildly I race to the forest so
     once again I can feel the beauty of nature. This beauty I embrace tightly within my thoughts, hoping that when
     taken from the scene the beauty of it will linger. 

     I look at the birds flying overhead chirping their freedom. The flowers sprout beneath my bare feet bringing tears
     to my eyes. All these things around me, so beautiful, so free, so natural, will soon disappear. 

     Running in between the trees, crying my love to all that is around me, I feel that i am finally something. I feel that I
     am finally somebody. I, in my second life, am a lover of nature who finds joy just worshipping its beauty. I, in my
     second life, love all that is true, all that is simple and natural, and find no conflict with the mores of society. In my
     second life, society is my dream which I can wish away or ignore. 

     The grass so green, the sky so blue, the craggy mountains, the sparkling clear water, the towering trees, the
     freedom-loving birds--all these things I love. All these things hold some mysterious power over me which enables
     me to disregard society. My second life in the beauty of dark reveals the beauty of me that is hidden by the
     influence of society.