She doesn't have time on her side. She thought she did. She knows she is on her own for no one can help a lost soul. One more strike and she is out. You can't feel any pity for her for she is unworthy. Unworthy of love. Unworthy of beauty. Unworthy of friendship. A kind soul once she was. Someone everyone desired to be. She has been drowning lately. Drowning deep beneath her shut eyelids. She can do nothing but dream now. For that is all she has. Her own subconscious. From time to time she calls out to her guardian, she wishes there was a god somewhere in this vast universe. She is lost soul. She might need saving but she is on her own and she knows that.
For this last time she breathes. She accepts her fate. She is a lost soul. So broken that she cannot be repaired. She wishes there was god. For if there was a God, she would be saved. She falters again. Not surprising. She has been falling for a while now.
"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." -F. S. Fitzgerald
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