Rising to the sunshine serves as the hardest part of any day,
with an overwhelming need to return to dream chasing lucid memories that fulfill an emptiness that gnaws on the soul in self-consumed hunger.
Morning showers provides minimal comfort, enhancing the ability to daydream as warm droplets temporarily numb that dull ache of unhealed scars.
Staring blankly into the fogged mirror, my body slowly becomes visible and I gaze into haunted and pained eyes opened to nightmares that should have been left behind from long ago.
I am a stranger when I look into the eyes of those I loved; now I see that stranger within me and can’t help but look in disgust at the broken man that I have become.
Prayers for an end have gone unanswered;
God snickered and named me Job, testing my faith
by taking my organs
taking my family
taking my home
taking it all and earning Satan’s sympathy as His cackles sent me into fits of madness.
Faith is for fools as I was rejected from Paradise, entering a personal Hell that will end in death.
We are the heroes of our own stories, nothing is owed to us except for our end.
They will only know us as victims or as soldiers fighting against the forces of God’s sickening predetermination.
Just as we partook of free-will’s fruit, so shall I feast upon the cornucopia that will set me free from His vindictive grip.
Every man for himself, survival of the fittest and I will win this eternal war that rages within me.
Author’s Words for Thought
“My childhood did not prepare me for the fact that the world is full of cruel and bitter things.” -Robert Oppenheimer