And so I take this final plunge into the endless night.
Holding my own hand as I take my final breath before this sleep I have longed for.
Pulling back that hammer which drives the final nail into my hollow soul.
Cold steel pressed against my temple which holds my mind in these dark chains.
A lifetime of painful woes swept away with the squeeze of a trigger.
A faded note crumpled time and time again brought to the light of day this one final time.
If there is this God so high upon that ethereal plain, he now weeps at my farewell from this mortal husk.
An artist in his final moments, painting the walls with that which gives him life.
Not before that final tear of regret and shame says goodbye under these tired eyes.
Lulled to an endless sleep.
Just trying to make it day by day...
Simon is the funny one.
He tells the jokes.
The laughter from others makes him prideful of his humor.
Oscar is the smart one.
4.0 through and through.
The books are his playground.
Logically sound mind.
Chris is the envious one.
Leering at those who sleep on their bed of diamond and gold.
He wants it all.
Isaac is the conniving one.
A word, a note, a lie, and someone's life is in shambles.
His best friend is Chris.
Oliver is the sad one.
Built on tears and tragedy.
He keeps the bottle close.
A gun, even closer.
Paul is the charmer.
A smile with the gleam of pearls.
Seductive by nature.
Him and Simon are like brothers.
Anthony is a sadist.
A few screams get him off.
He likes the smell of copper.
Flesh is the canvas for his art.
Tim is evil by nature.
He wants to taste people's fear.
An insatiable hunger for their life.
He's been away for years though.
Locks and chains keep him in a cell.
Tim is waiting.
Waiting for them to rust and break.
Hunter is my name.
Simon, Oscar, Chris, Isaac, Oliver, Paul, Anthony, and Tim are all my friends.
It's been a long time since I've seen Tim though.
He'll be visiting one day.
See you then, old friend.
A single word to put the whole thing together.
This eternal chamber of sorrow I lie within
The stench of a decaying soul I smell
A shriveled heart withering away
A crippled mind unable to carry a thought
Broken limbs, numbed from the pain
This madness a spiraling staircase growing colder as I descend
Reaching the bottom... quiet now
Screaming to the outside, but it is only a whisper
Scraping together what is left of me
My eyes blinded by the harrowing darkness
Neither heaven nor hell taketh me
Left in this eternal chamber of sorrow
I shall see how I fare in this chasm tomorrow.
Depression is neither an evil nor good. It simply exist as its own device.
Daddy please wake up
My heart can't take this sorrow
Why are you so cold...
RIP Daddy. 8-20-07
The glass is full
Be joyous and have a try!
A second to ignite the fuel
You like to drink? So do I!
The third's the kicking mule
You look sick. Why?
Oh you threw up...
Well for me it's bottoms up!
Currently drunk. Thanks autocorrect!
Awakened to the smell of ash and sulfur
This place, a reminder of our sins
Dark figures dragging me down a narrow corridor
The heat rising
Screams audible now
Choking on the fumes
A light at the end
But not one of hope
Eyes adjusting to the sights around me
The brimstone beneath me singes my feet with every step
A sprawling lake of fire before me
Agonizing cries of the mangled souls trapped down below
Tossed over the edge
My body chars and burns
Reforming and destroyed again
It won't end
Doomed to an eternity of suffering and misery
Begging, pleading for it to stop
The twisted demons, they enjoy it
Fueling their hate and malice
Lucifer atop his throne
Admiring his cruel design
This is my final destination
This is Hell.
From the Gods of the sky,
To the mortals on Earth,
To the demons that slumber within the hellfire.
The coexistence to one another,
Yet the mortals are oblivious to each.
A war which rages in the planes beyond our own.
Our own war before our very eyes.
The death that we see,
The death that we will never see.
The fall of an angel,
To the rise of a monster.
Yet we have become the monster.
Overthrown by our own hate,
Our own sadism.
We have manifested into the thing we despise the most.
We once stopped to look upon the eathereal battle beyond our comprehension.
Only now they pause to witness the bloodshed that is mankind.
To see that there is no longer a need for Hell.
For we as men have created our very own.
The pause of the Gods,
The pause of the demons,
To the hellfire in which man now lies.
— The End —