The Death Of

Ah, death what you do to me!! :)

 

 

The Death Of

 

It is an unforgiving darkness, shadows slithering on the walls of eternity, surrounded by irrelevant nonsense.

 

Searching I find none, lacking am I in a true preference for truth. It is damp, so damp and cold in my lonely world. My loneliness only comforted by my insanity. Pictures of the past escape haunting me daily. A dreary past that I wish to forget.

 

The death of me would be a blessing to some. Why bless them with my undue arrogance when I can bless them in the grave. They seek perfection in many finding it rarely, yet still they seek. I hid my perfections under my ignorance of such things as this. This thing they call life.

 

A thousand curses are upon me in my sleep and all my waking hours. Nonsense is this my few friends that I keep only for my amusement. Ignorance is upon them for my intent is hidden in my lust for the unclean. The unclean, a worried unforgiving often-cruel bunch. I seek those dark characters loathing in a clear contempt of their surroundings. A baby only makes them cry, rather than be filled with joy.

 

What is this I am after? Is it to roam endlessly in my own mind seeking the light, which has never shown for me? My heart not broken by love, but by this hate I feel seeping through my every vein.

 

Yet I sit here wondering aimlessly seeking something unknown to me. Love in is purest form never has existed, in the real world. I would call it a forced love. Forced by society to care whether or not this person or this one dies. I do not care if you die and rot. You are nothing to me. I am nothing to me.

 

So, I seep back down now into my dreary lonely nothingness. Only to be disturbed by the voices that haunt me, and the shadows that creep to comfort me.

 

 

Cynthia Yildirim

Reviews

[Steffi]

really inspired. I liked the flow and the way you use simple yet intricate wording here to really flow it together