Expended
by Im on Jul.30, 2010, under Main, Memoirs
Something about notes written in his own blood, addressed to his own soul. But he could never read it with his own eyes. You see, they were no longer in his possession. And his obsession, knew no bounds or limits. This was no gimmick, no cry for help among the living. And when they found him, he had expended all the life that he was given.
