I stand alone in the ruins of what was once the definition of beauty and the Essence of prosperity now all that remains is constant reminder of how close death is to claiming my weary soul , staring up into the heavens as the tears of a thousand heartbroken angels fall suspended in time and space it is as if the angels themselves could feel the numbness that plagues my body and the unbearable pain of shattered dreams that taunts my heart which is slowly falling to pieces, and all hope resides among my long dead past, still I stand in the rain out of body; out of mind waiting for the storm to pass allowing the wounds that have entombed my spiritual and physical being thus ending the imperial rein that this unshakeable state of depression has had over my emotions for centuries and of which is slowly driving me closer to the brink of oblivion dispite all attempts to escape my impending fate to heal before it's to late, will I ever be free from this torturous endeavor?