If this is heaven... Please send me back to hell;
What I've done here to no one I will never tell
The goodness I've become is impossible after the deadly seven;
I was worst than the devil himself ever since I reached the age of eleven.

Why must I wish to be back where evilness only what I know to do?
Perhaps it's because I am someone when I was me and I belong only to the few
But I must also know that there's a time in my life where I prayed to a sleeping God;
I never knew my parents name in an orphanage I grew up and loneliness was the best company I had...

Now that I am old waiting for my final hours writing down all my sins keeping a note of goodness;
Although that note is empty perhaps it's because I doubted if what I've done are purity and sweetness...
I am now on my knees confessing, for the last 70 years of madness and angered soul;
Where I were hoping each day that God let out a lightning to strike me and have it all.

I remembered ******, clear as the tears now that falls down my cheeks;
That crashes down while my heart wails for forgiveness my lips don't move but my mind speaks
All of the crimes I've committed in cold blood, freezing my heart to feel no guilt as I smirk and grin;
I even dared the almighty to save that man's life while I gently squeeze the trigger,bullet pierces his chin...

I cannot recall more of those memories it makes me weep and finally feel the guilt;
I am still breathing yet I know I am already burning in hell my soul can feel the heat
All I ever do now,I'll say it again is waiting for my coming end while never a moment pass I've prayed;
And hope this diary will be read by God just in case, I fall to my death and in hell my soul decay...

The slow trickle behind my bedroom wall,
alerts me to a subtle call.

"Help...help... save me from this cell."
But I cannot risk my sanity o'er my mind's concocted hell.
"Please... please... I miss life all too well."
Says I, "Do not stir me demon, my soul is not to sell."

I wrap the sheets around my ears and focus hard to sleep,
But a rest was not deserved for the demon craved to leap.

"I smell blood! I smell blood!
Like the sweetest rose-bud!"

Says I, "I smell nothing fiend!
You are only dreamed!
No reality in this is seen."

A chortle laugh is known just then while my walls begin to creak.
A drop of blood falls on my chest and grants a chilling shriek.

"Is it too late for reality to change its mind and let me die?"
The crimson stain upon my ceiling has deemed my end is nigh.

"Do you hear me? Do you hear me? Are you yet so vain?"  
Says I, "I am not! I am not! Do cause me no more pain!"

A sharp crack of thunderous tempered toil rips a chasm through my soul.
The trickle, trickle, trickle, to sleep will never lull.

"Do you hear it? Do you see it? Do you envy all the dead?"
"I smell blood! I smell blood! But out gushes YOUR blood instead!"

And then a scream of biting hatred breaks the silence through.
The stain pours blood upon my room while tempest's force ensues.

The dead retreat,
Unto their sleep,

Now my only friend is you.

Your mind's eye is turned inward
Looking at a distorted image of yourself
Droplets of imagination
Falling into your pool of thought
Static brain ripples
Traveling outward
Crashing against the sides
Of your mental boundaries
Those self created boundaries of
Hindrance
Exposing your ignorance
And I
Standing outside the walls of your mind
I see the real you
Through nothing more than a peep hole
Looking deeply into your exposed soul
All the while you stare judgmentally
At your minds eye image of yourself
I can see your light
The part of you that is diamond like in clarity
And until you awake
With full realization
Awareness
And understanding
I am alone