Existence

The light was fading into the darkness of the night , the trees silent as the birds closed their eyes planning the next gathering cycle. Footsteps of a tired man could be heard his shadow eluding him like his destiny. Echo of his being bouncing off voiceless corridors of the universe. His fate resting on his shoulders like a million memories, the dried tears on his cheeks unseen by the light of the moon. With lost hope and broken prayers he walked. At a distance a small hut ,smoke rising from its battered chimney torn fabric covering its windows spots of dim light visible.

Knock Knock the mans knuckles touch the door hope setting aside his tired existence and jubilation of sorts creeping into his being. No response …..Knock Knock once again the knuckles touch the door ….The wait turning reminding him of the past and a sudden soreness felt on his knuckles. With a sigh of grief he turns back to walk away, his steps slower than before his hope weaker than ever.