A poem I wrote a little while back, inspired by something I was reading... you probably wouldn't believe it after reading this, but I'm usually a pretty cheerful person. :)
Looking Backwards in the Dark
Our days are numbered by the gods
and counted by demons,
Our names are sacred and our trust
Is nonexistent. Those who trust, die.
Faith can kill. Having none will destroy
your soul eventually. No medium, it seems.
Love is terrifying and friendship
Is as tenuous as the short bridge of letters
that convert friend to foe. Good and evil
Take a thousand different forms in the
eyes of the beholders. What is true?
Walk a thousand miles with a lantern
and ask for names. Beware the dark,
Churches are no sanctuary against
anything. And a darkened human soul
Is too powerful. A black heart can conquer.
The perfect world is a pretty shell
Over a rotting interior. Forged in flames of
death and destruction, cooled with tears.
O the times! O the morals!
What is written is done. Spoken words
lose their meaning. Don’t even think about
trying to escape Fate. Call on the gods
And beg them to keep their power from us -
Humanity is not ready. But does anyone
Believe in anything any more? I do not know
And so we go on. Brother against brother
And friend against friend, lover against lover
In this senseless, never-ending war.
The fault lies in ourselves…
Ask: What is all this for?
Looking Backwards in the Dark
Our days are numbered by the gods
and counted by demons,
Our names are sacred and our trust
Is nonexistent. Those who trust, die.
Faith can kill. Having none will destroy
your soul eventually. No medium, it seems.
Love is terrifying and friendship
Is as tenuous as the short bridge of letters
that convert friend to foe. Good and evil
Take a thousand different forms in the
eyes of the beholders. What is true?
Walk a thousand miles with a lantern
and ask for names. Beware the dark,
Churches are no sanctuary against
anything. And a darkened human soul
Is too powerful. A black heart can conquer.
The perfect world is a pretty shell
Over a rotting interior. Forged in flames of
death and destruction, cooled with tears.
O the times! O the morals!
What is written is done. Spoken words
lose their meaning. Don’t even think about
trying to escape Fate. Call on the gods
And beg them to keep their power from us -
Humanity is not ready. But does anyone
Believe in anything any more? I do not know
And so we go on. Brother against brother
And friend against friend, lover against lover
In this senseless, never-ending war.
The fault lies in ourselves…
Ask: What is all this for?
Quietly, he waits. She laughs. He feels no trace of doubt. At the strike of the clock, he shoots. She falls. Her blood blossoms on her forehead like a blood red rose. His revenge is complete. He stalks away....
Yes, I am insane.
What about you?
Yes, I'm insane.
Aren't you, too?
Yes, I have issues.
Don't you?
No, I'm not stupid.
Because, yes, you are, too.
No, I'm not an idiot.
Because that's who you are.
You are retarded.
I really hate you.
Yes, I'm insane.
And you are, too.
Yes, I am insane.
What about you?
Yes, I'm insane.
Aren't you, too?
Yes, I have issues.
Don't you?
No, I'm not stupid.
Because, yes, you are, too.
No, I'm not an idiot.
Because that's who you are.
You are retarded.
I really hate you.
Yes, I'm insane.
And you are, too.
To her, memeories are a painful reminder of the past. She has a box full of them. She has an idea. She takes the box full of memories to a field. She opens it and takes out the worst memory of all. It's a picture of them smiling. She gets angry and rips it in half. She takes a lighter and sets the picture on fire. She sets it on the box. All the memeories she kept hidden, go up in flames. She smiles, then leaves. The flames eventually die down. Her memories are completely lost. And she's happy about it.