The pen was slipping lower and lower in his hand. The past is too hard to let go of. He held it tighter. He held it too tight. It broke. He was petrified. What was he to do? That was the only thing he held dear! He gave a small frown as he realized that he really didn’t care. He opened his hand and let3 the contents fall to the floor. His past was shattered and left to find a new home, most likely destined to be taken by the plague-filled rats into the eternal maze of memories.

There it will be made a part of a new home unreachable by the fierce eyes of the black cat.

The words,  “These lonely footsteps are destined to echo throughout this hollow earth.” Are sung by a poor man. Though I’ve never met him, nor heard his songs, I know these words. 

This sentence can be disproven in a literal sense, but words are manipulatable. 

They often carry double meanings. Deep thoughts, hidden by shallow lines.

I won’t tell you what it means, but here is a hint, you.  A writer’s trade is within the reader’s imagination. Human minds are mysterious, and will often overthink. Try not to overthink, it will cause you fewer headaches. Don’t think simply though, you will regret overlooking things. 

It’s a fine line we walk. The weight of one’s burdens may disrupt one’s balance.