An old soul throwing a temper tantrum.
Yelling at the sky
Hoping God is listening
If that's where he lives
Or if he even exists.

Under the night sky,
Stomping on the ground,
Glaring at each individual star,
Hoping that they can feel
My hatred.

My black, hardened chest
Cracks and shifts,
Exposing the lava pool underneath
That's been slowly burning me from the inside out.

Passion bursting through every crevice now, no longer able to hold in the pain.
Boiling in my throat, bubbling up and over, choking on a volcanic mouth.

The agony that comes from how torturous it is to have both equal opponents in the
Battle between fear and love.
I don't want to know who wins anymore,
I've had enough.

All my life has ever been was war
And all I've done was hide alone
In my trench and fox hole.

I just want something bigger,
Something more,
Without so much fear convincing me
To become the quitter.

"God," I think,
"Could I achieve enough inner agony for you to help me make it stop?"
My knees hit the concrete,
Eyes on the stars,
My skin melting off my very bones,
I collapse an empty corpse.
Every last bit of my semblance
Slowly burning like charred paper edges,
To leave behind a skeleton
And hopefully free the mind.