Grave Robber or Soul Protector?

Grave Robber Or Soul Protector?

 

I received a warning one day,

If I couldn’t find who I was,

I would never control my mind,

And I would never be able to erase the bloody mud from my hands,

But I could swear when I looked there,

Nothing.

Clean, there was no blood, no mud, no violence upon my hands.

For now, it was upon my mind,

It had somehow changed it’s position,

Moved past the Mental Gate,

And there it lay, on my conscience.

My morals were warnings,

Telling me it wasn’t my fault.

That I am not the one that killed,

But maybe, just maybe I was the one that willed,

Pushed enough for fate and destiny to collide,

In a singular moment.

I didn’t want to put my best friend in his grave.

The maker doesn’t want it, the buyer doesn’t need it, and the user,

The user does not know it.

His mother wanted an open casket,

But even then I couldn’t bear to look at him.

Couldn’t get my mind to lift my eyes,

I merely looked down again, and saw that his blood lay back on my hands,

My mind had let it leak out,

Expunged from his body,

Only a stairway to a beautiful pearly gate lay ahead of him.

If I could bring him back and have death take my hand,

Lead me to wherever I belong, to a Hell like no other.

I did trade places with my best friend.
He’s still dead, but I took his reservation in hell,

The demons inside me call it reality,

And I am glad he escaped from this,

Because this truth and thought comes from my mind.

My mind tells me that I need to clean my hands,

Move on,

Work harder,

Find myself.

My mind is merely repeating what people say to me,

They gave me warnings, to find who I am,

But I do not own me anymore,

For I have sold my soul to the devil,

Stone cold, not whole and gone to another level.