179th Post

Morning approaches.

But sleep evades me.

Once again.
I question the meaning of life.

What is life?
What is our purpose in life?

Just watched a programme on television.
About how some people manage to escape death.

Is it luck?
Or is it because they weren't on death's list yet?

Indeed.
Death causes much anguish to the living.
And it's one of life's many mysteries.

Truth be questioned.
How many are really prepared to die without fear or regrets?

Is death the only time in which i can truly rest?

Is it time again?
To revert to my original form?
As the archangel of destruction.

Driving others to self destruction.
Despair.
And eventually death.