IRC-Galleria

Oh were does the feeling come from, all mighty joy. Time frozen for an eternity. Laughing with only himself.
Wondering his past, making delusions of the future, waiting only for the decisive words.
Has the poor boy finally snapped. Thinking his wings might carry him. Has the poor boy finally snapped. Driven by something greater than depression. Laughing for the time being when the time does not move. Waiting for something decisive wich he can't make.

He follows, but what does he follow. Where does this shadow lead him. What do his dreams tell him. Few decisive words make the time flow again. Yet fewer actions are needed to freeze it again. Is it a skill of his own..? Is it the will of his own..?

Time frozen and I wish the clock would tick forward but only a minute wich felt like an hour. I wish something decisive would happen. A phone call in the midst of night. Or Reaper to claim the head of one.

He waits when time does not move. He thinks his wings might have grown enough to carry him. Will he try. Will a dream come true or has the poor boy finally snapped...