He wandered the plain, a lost soul without much cause or purpose.  Nothing in his future, and appearently even less in his past.  Knowing nothing of himself besides hearsay, or perhaps it was truths.  Was he truely the monster that he had come to be told he was?  Were these people telling him truths, or just trying to cause him to remove himself from this lifetime.  There was a spark burning within himself, something that caused blackouts fromtime to time, only coming to, in a mass of destruction.  He had a dark side that he knew nothing of, but he could feel that it knew everything of him.  To ask it would be insanity, although unsure if it was insanity within his own mind, or to other people.  Maybe if he spoke, called it out.  Could he do that?  The whisper of the wind as it blew through the soft feathers of his downy wings, drove him to madness, he was alone, he didn't know anybody save for the people he had met along the way on this very bumpy and confusing rollarcoaster into life without memories.  The idea to feel had been lost, he hadn't ate even a bite in months, yet he still lived.  Drawing a deep breath from lungs that stung everytime he did so, he paused, allowing the wind to drift into his subconsious and cause him to look behind himself, as if someone might be watching him, or following.  There was nobody, of course there wasn't.  He was alone.  The idea repeating within his mind over and over, what did he have to stay for, what did he have to live for?  Why was he here?  There had to be a reason.  Thinking causing pain now, and he was unsure if it was bringing thoughts in, or erasing precious memories, but the feeling of wet came to his upper lip, and small streams of blood began to slowly exit his nose, this was becoming common, everytime he tried to remember, and in a way he wanted to give up, but that driving force within himself wouldnt' allow it.  Never allow it, never give up.