When I was younger, I used to wonder why I was born.

The more I thought about it, the more depressed I felt because I realised that there was really no meaning in being alive. I didn't have the power to fight for what I want. I couldn't protect those I love. I couldn't do anything for the Earth. I felt helpless as I watched humans spiral towards choas.

During that period of time, I lost my will to live, but I didn't tell anyone. There was no point because I knew that no one could answer the question as to why we were born. At times, I even felt that we were puppets in a play. We were puppets made to fight against each other, for the pleasure of some other existence that watched with a smirk.

How hollow I thought. Life is so hollow. Sometimes, I even felt as though this body didn't belong to me. But as I grew older, I finally found an aim in life.

I want to pursue happiness.

It sounds like a very simple aim, but it's harder then it seems.

Fallen angel, won't you cry for me?