Ashfox

If you get to know me, you may know me as a person with all smiles. If you steadily look in deeper, then you may begin to ask of all things related to weather. You may begin to ask of why the silence. Ask of why the constant stare through the windows. Of each and every window I can look on. Then, if you are interested, truly interested, I’d tell you tales about battle fields; of love ones dying; of hopes and faith losing; of being conditioned to stand, move, and fight. To survive.  And take time to rest by looking outside the window, like an eagle in its nest. And then, fly alone.
 
      And still if you are interested or just want evidence, then I will just have to show you two proofs: a blemished soul, and a chained heart. No. Not like my flower’s untamed heart, which I so admire, mine is chained with the end of a chain bearing a nine inch nail pointed towards the middle of this scarred heart.
 
      I chained it, and point a sharp object at it. I fettered it to develop the skill to fight, and go on; it’s both a weakness and strength. I cannot divulge how it works. Some may have an idea. I’m not that deep; I get inspirations from childish sights. But discovered its use to both my advantage and disadvantage.