Swords, steel, and knives alike provide me with the most comfort tonight, as yet another life will be taken soon, with caring caskets laid to rest. I’ve grown tired of the insanity and the mania that comes during these blinding periods, but there is a sense of solace deep within it also, enough so to the point where plunging these sharpened blades into another bodes a rather bittersweet feeling – one in which I will surely miss when this is all said and done. From upon pillars I once stood as I watched countless suns from a myriad of ages rise and fall before me, each one encapsulating me in a trance so tight – I could have sworn I had gone traversed the universe. But authentic moments like those are yet to be in my grasp, however as the drifting and the daydreams increase and flood steadily, like a venomous poising encroaching upon my all – I know that the light must die upon this society, for only then will I be able to see the true colors that it shrouds in decay as the year of the dark envelopes it entirely.
So in times where morphing’s begin to start, mere moments before I am to take my leave, I expel what remains of this clouded energy that I breathe, choking, gasping, releasing and relapsing – beginning innately for a new life outside this all. But despite all of this the sun still pursues me, taunting me, knowing of the blood it has been destined to spill and in full acceptance of what must come. Like a broken soul reaching for the noose, like a proud thief, staring down a guillotine – like a phantom, lost within the convulsions of a fated reality, reaching for the poison that has long since beckoned. Colder sweats caress me as it’s beams seep through the cracks of my windows which give release to the frigid air that settles in, air that leaves me past out and isolated, caught in a darker dream, as the wandering souls from outside burn brighter, caught in infinite cycles – seemingly to never change. Even in my deepened sleeps, I can hear the tires of vehicles skid off in the distance towards dimmer fates, I can see the summer fade away along in the taillights down roads leading to even further unknowns, I can sense the crime and murder within the deepest corners of the society, screaming out to me as I drift off, in full knowing that what I will leave behind will not be missed.
Because I know that this very blackened sun will be the last and only of it’s kind; for it has brought about a madness that can never be unseen, and a burning that can never be fully remedied. It stares deeply into my soul, seemingly knowing all that I desire, all that I had once yearned for, and all that remains for me to experience. But I know that in it’s death it will bring about a twilight flood that we will have never bear witness to before, to leave in a perpetual sort of sleep or step, almost as if it never rose or set to begin with. It will bring about the march of the fruitions that I have long since dreaded, it will bring about the very essence of fear that even cowers in it’s own damnation; it will bring about the true unraveling and erosion of this very reality in which burns from both ends. For as I plunge this sharpened blade into it’s core, the very force pushing it down to where it shall meet it’s final rest; nails on nails on nails on nails, within a coffin of infinite proportions to seal it forever-more opening, ready to devour like a black hole – I catch glimpse of how this end must happen.
