What is the meaning of this life?
What is the sense of existence when hope is long since gone?
What is the meaning of wandering aimlessly through this existence as a mourning soul? Lost, tortured, desperate.
What is the point of being part of a reality that you cannot reach, which in your eyes is so blurred and unreal that it could well be a fatal fantasy?
Oh! But how cruel it is not being able to rest at night, not being able to close your eyes to reach the world of dreams, that world where even the most absurd imagination seems to be real.
No, instead of that wandering in the dark without knowing where your steps might take you. Wandering without destiny, wandering without end, until with the sunlight the torture begins again.
But that night something was different, that night he walked before the eyes of death. And without realizing his steps took him to those ruins from which no one ever returns. The great door rose in front of him and, even before entering, he felt the breath of death.
He did not fear, he did not tremble, for what was left to fear when he was already dead in life?
That sinister place had a special aura. Its great fortified towers, its rosettes and stained glass in perfect condition that made it shine with a mystical light, the feeling of it being a sacred place long ago desecrated. All these was unique and, in a way, supernatural.
But there was something else that warned him of his deadly end, for an organ began to play breaking the deep silence of the night. And little by little its ghostly melody intoned relentlessly the morbid symphony of a mortal requiem.
It was his time, he could assure it, and coming down from the heavens he saw the dreadful angel, the angel that was about to reap his life.
The angel was infallible, the angel was sure. The angel took from his soul away form his lifeless corpse.
Cold, dark and death, he was never disturbed again. And when the sunlight came, the cyclical and eternal torture couldn’t reach him again.