Monsters Inside My Head

My Ancient Soul - Never Quite Belonged

At the center of my being, I've never felt my age

though I've only lived nineteen years on this earth.

But something inside me is so much older,

much more ancient than you can imagine.

I may be young, 

but I feel oh so old--

often I am weary.

Countless books I've read,

many a story I wrote,

all with unique, ancient histories

and I've lived through it all.

You cannot imagine the pain I've endured,

all the death I've seen.

This has aged me--

as all pain does--

and I'm all the wiser.

My soul has been alive for thousands of years,

each life special but filled with turmoil--

I know this without a doubt

for I retain memories of those long dead,

my soul remembers them oh so well.

I've dined with royalty and with beggars,

traveled the world,

been betrayed,

witnessed revolutionary ideas and war,

cried for the innocent,

stepped over corpses,

kept dark secrets,

heard the screams of the damned,

walked alone.

I tire so of this hatred--

that which consumes the world--

for I've seen it countless times in each life,

all the same but taking different forms.

I forsake religion

because it is merely a human invention to nullify fear of the unknown--

it is not real.

I laugh at humanity,

how stupid it can be.

I scoff at the idea of equality

for it is but a silly human fantasy.

I roll my eyes at the mention of peace--

no mortal can achieve that.

You think me too cynical,

I understand.

But, darling, when you've lived as long as I,

then you begin to see the patterns in human history,

and realize that no one truly learns from mistakes;

that humans care only for themselves--

only a select few are the exception.

Nevertheless I shall live on.

My soul has lived a thousand lives,

and it shall yet live a thousand more.