Feeling like an empty shell lying on the beach, waiting for someone to pick it up and throw it back to the Ocean of Hate. If you find it then just throw it back, no use to take it with you. Inside is nothing left. You may break it, throw it back, hide in the sand, I wouldn't care because left alone is best for me.
As tide comes I shall travel again in the Ocean of Hate where I can be free till I find another beach where to stop hoping you wouldn't find me there. Because in the shell there can be life still, but very, very little.
Would you take it with you, you make a mistake. That little piece of life, hope will grow bigger and bigger. Till it becomes monster and you just take it back to where you found it. And throw it back to Ocean of Hate.
Yet another one finds it and so shall the circle continue till one day that ray of hope in the shell is almost gone and someone finds it and from that day, the shell will become what it used to be.
But to get out of the circle will take time, days, months, years, decades, centurys maybe even a millenia till it finds true happyness.
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