The thoughts that come

Warning this might be to depressing for some and yes I am ok

Again and again, the thoughts come to me.
Even in sleep, they speak until I scream from the words they say.
Come again and again till I wish the pillow I lay was a scythe of the reaper coming to cut his fresh grass.
The thoughts come to tell me, again and again, to tear the eye from my enemies in the blood of which they bleed.
For have they not taken yours?
For have they not let you bleed with no mercy as terror and anger ripple through their eyes.
The thoughts finally told me to listen and with all this suffering I broke down like an old fender on the side of the highway.
The thoughts told me to show them the weapon of mass destruction which I possess and let them feel the pain for once in their wretched life.
The thoughts told me not show emotion but yet I did and only fear and sadness rang through my body as I walked down the used to be busy hallway now filled with mangled corpses.
The thoughts can not ever control me for they are me and if I am like those savages I should be one of the many mangled corpses and as I reached the end of the hallway I pulled my own weapon of mass destruction on myself and lay where no bodies lay.
In a halo of blood I fall to the floor, a martyr, a shadow of death which creeps when a man listens to his thoughts too much.

This is what remains of the pale and tormented body which lay in the halo of blood and a weapon of mass destruction at his side just waiting to be picked up and carried on to another tormented soul to keep the shadow of death loom ever closer.