I'll tell you a story
Of Two men
Who were best friends
One who had a predisposition to feeling nothing
The other who had a predisposition to sadness, suffering, and helping the people whom he loved
Their names were pity and melancholy
Respectively
One day pity said:"I want to be sad Mel. I want to feel sad. I wonder what being sad feels like?"
"Rather terrible I'd assume Pit." replied Melancholy
"Well I guess I'll never know." Said Pity and with that the two friends went their seperate ways
Melancholy was conflicted because he wanted to give Pity everything. Including sadness.
So he sat down and started planning. He thought of sadness and raindrops and death and tears and scars and pain and cruelty and anger and many sad things about the human race.
He drew things. Things that created tears in his eyes. Things that caused the void in his chest to deepen.
Then he was ready
He gathered all of his pencils and pictures and paints and brushes and palettes
And he set out to paint the streets with sorrow
He painted raindrops on the walls
And death on the floor
And cruelty on the lampposts
And suffering on the windows
He painted and painted
He painted a man's tears raining down from the walls
To drown the men on the floor
As the demons sniggered in delight from their lampposts
And their victims of torture hung fromm the windows
Melancholy painted.
He turned the river of tears into a river of blood
And when he ran out of red paint
He slit his wrists and used his own blood
Pouring his life into his sadness
Pouring his life into his river
And then it was finished
His masterpiece of sadness was complete
"Maybe Pit will feel sadness." he thought as he lay in the wet paint and blood with a small smile on his face
Pity walked around the corner and saw the tears and the demons and the corpses and he was scared
He followed the ominous river and at the end he found an extremely well painted corpse
It looked just like his friend Melancholy
He picked up the painting and as he watched the life abandon his sad friend's eyes he felt it
The pit
The void growing in his chest
Painful as if it were an acid that burnt up into his throat
As he watched the life abandon melancholy's life he cried
Because his friend was dead
And he was sad