So fragile…so very delicate…everything was meant to be
broken…but certain things are broken more often than others…one of those things
is my heart. My hand trembles as I write, my body shaking with frustration,
hate, lost love, and sorrow.
My little
Engel, you could never be responsible for my feelings such as these…this world
that is full of malice is the cause, and is responsible.
But, Mother
Earth, how could I hate you so?
…this world is only shame…
Daniel Helle, Twenty-seventh of April, Two Thousand and
Eleven.