His mind broken, and his body soon to break, he wandered through this desert of his own miseries, comforted only by the voices in his head. Nearer and nearer he came to the mouth of madness, to the point where all he could do was wait, slowly and pitifully, until he too, became his own worst enemy. At this point, going crazy was the most sane thing to do. As the descent into insanity crept inevitably closer, he spoke of strange things:
"I, light, bane of darkness.
I, darkness, poisoner of light,
I, stranger, evil to the realm of rationality,
I, faith, warded of indecency,
I, weakness, the bitter killer of power,
I, strength, the cloak of insecurities,
I, transcendent, a respecter of time,
I, madman, blight upon all,
I, mortal, doomed to fall."
His vision blurring, he looked over the cliff at the rocks below. His ears picked up the bizarrely beautiful sound of the waves on the jagged teeth below hm, and an odd comfort fell over him, a strangely peaceful feeling of solace. He looked once more into the darkness of his unraveling mind and wondered why, if God existed, had He allowed the mans life to dwindle so quickly, stumbling and shambling lamely down the road to ruins? His mind had already rationalized and he took no responsibility for his atrocities. His mind was the real killer. His body was but a shell, a vessel for madness, despair, and evil. His mind never faltered, remembering this always, playing the words of his father over and over:
Murder........
It's like meat in a diet,
It can't be simply lessened in consumption or cut out totally at all,
It's that first bloody mouthful of a rare steak,
The delicate butteriness, bold herbs and spices, and the somewhat minuscule metallic tang of LIFE essence,
The heartbeat, the love and life, all in that one first, bloody bite,
The tension builds,
The excitement grows, and when teeth first cut in,
And the taste explodes,
Giving way to pure bliss,
As we humans would have it,
Blood is a sign of filth but a sign of life,
Even though everyone dies to give way to desire,
Everyone gets a taste of blood,
And after you've eaten a bloody piece of meat,
You'll want more,
Murder is the same.....
YOU ARE READING
Some Things Never Change: A Book Dedicated to Absolutely Nothing At All
RandomA book dedicated to thoughts, poems, stories, questions, answers, recipes. All sorts of fuckery happening up in here. Also, ignore my very ambiguous and sarcastic title. I do have a very cynical and often bitter sense of humor. Anyways, there are st...
