Abandoned Soul

He was never meant to be here.

The gods did not call his name. The world did not open its arms. He came quietly, through an accident no one noticed, and found nothing waiting for him.

There was no light when he woke, only the sound of wind and the dull ache of hunger. The streets were empty, the sky pale and endless, and every passing face looked through him as if he were part of the dirt beneath their feet.

He did not remember a name, or a place, or a reason. The body felt wrong. The air felt wrong. Even breathing felt borrowed.

He walks because he can. He eats because he must. He speaks only when silence becomes too heavy to bear. No one asks who he is, and he has no answer to give.

The gods never meant for him to exist. The world has already forgotten.
Yet somehow, he remains — an echo left behind by mistake, still moving through the cold.