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This is what you call it when you're heart dies before its truly born.

This is a new day in my life, or rather the first of my new one. The past is to be forgotten, never to be spoken of again. I am pride, I am wrath, I am sin.

Too much does she care for me. Always there to catch me in her feathery wings. Blessed am I to know her. Always my guardian angel, a deity to watch over me. Undeserving of this am I, though she would not agree. Always to proclaim I deserve happiness and love, and always the first to offer both...not nearly enough gratitude could I show to her.

Do they not realize what life they are wasting? How valuable the time is that they have left? Why do they rot their time away in their steel boxes, throwing away chances for happiness in between cold walls. They do not know what they are losing.