Valentine's Sorrow

The cries of the wind slided through the corridor. The eerie morning golden shafts peeked sheepishly behind the darken clouds. The boy without a Valentine stood silently in front of the lift. With the stomach still sore from the wanton suffering and an ulcer painfully screaming for attention, the boy without a Valentine treaded quietly to work. The world was a noisy one. There was much hurt. The boy without a Valentine donned on his shield, a head-set connected to iPod Touch. The songs gave him a sense of false serenity. A world he created and refused to leave.

The gray locomotive fed itself senselessly to the ravenous City. A dangerous monster that fed endless on the misery of the people, the boy without a Valentine believed. The boy with Valentine then offered himself to the great god City, by allowing the Tower demon to swallow him. Interestingly, the Tower demon had a different type of digestive system. The boy without a Valentine went up the guts.

There he sat. A torture equipment perfected through the ages.

And the day went by reminding him that he is a boy without a Valentine.