Desert

The desert, that stark landscape that molds the human, steels the heart and freezes the emotions. A place where warriors are made, where every minute is spent to grasp that bit of metal, like the breath one heaves for, the water one thirsts, that is the desert. One claws, one kills, one tramples over every other thing, it is the Darwinistic house.

There is no tomorrow. There is no love. There is only the sand.

I have enough of people lording over me. That is why I have no religion. I am my own master, of my own destiny. I am the Will.

That is why I walk alone.