Army ant.

I always sigh. Always wait. Always patiently sit down and watch the towers collide. I've lost my dog. I lost my train. I lost my life deep into the void that fills the space were my heart was once. I have no faith. I have no home. I have no path in front of me. I have warm hands to melt the frost that covers my voice. Echoes.
I row my boat deep into the ocean. Small ocean. The storm grows meaner. I will row until my arms go limp. I'm fragile. I'm dumb. I'm little Peter crying out "Wolf!" while I hear the disturbing sound of the sheep as they're maimed and slashed to death. I will never get home. I will never understand. I will never wake up. I will never be good. I will never be enough. I will never be one. For I am less than one.

I am nothing.