Resurgence of The Forgotten

In a small old well called ‘The Planet of Mythra’, there was a single insignificant spec of dust. A twenty-eight years who struggled on everything ever since he was brought to come in the cruel thing tagged ‘reality’. ‘. A poorly weaved tapestry named ‘Cray Sierphin’ by an unfortunate yet loving weaver he called ‘Mom’. An endeavour resulted in a short-lived happiness built upon the sacrifice of his trust, believes, and hopes. All gone in a spend of a month, including his none-important life. Nevertheless, the ceasing of his life (s) didn’t put an end to the disposable dust’s journey, but only the beginning (s).