POV of a trapped soul
Nathan Towns
09/23/22
May the blood spill on this plane of existence. As I lay upon the crimson field. Blood soked and battered. My tears run down my face, spilling and get absorbed in to the dirt. The pain and agony of my own my heart. Alway tormented by my own doughts and fears. Breaking due to the trauma around me. There is a battle field of drama and hate. The sky remains black, taken all light and hope. I feed into it all, waiting for deaths kiss for relief. My resting place in the end. Nothing like a war on one's own shattered broken heart. I shall wallow in my own self pity. Because I believe I am lesser then you. I think therefore I am. I wear this crown of regrets on my throne of misery. Death is the jester and my only friend laughing at me in the background. As I struggle with what we call life. My reality. The futility and hard ships of man. I am stuck with my own point of view. Yet I hold on to the kinship of my brothers and sisters. My kingdom of ash, dust and dirt. Because I am the queen my own thoughts. I rule over it all with a rusty broken sword. I shall grip the weapon with all my might and cut down the walls. Exposing my emotions, my feelings to my subjects who are loyal to me. With hope that the healing will start again. The hard work and sweat that I Built it all with my shaking hands. Maybe I'll find out who is a love one and who is a foe. Help me slay the beast inside. Only those truly love me will accept me for me. Even I must accept me for all my monsters and kindness. The raging fight within my very soul. Acceptance is all we want. As we all prisoners in are own cage. A jail cell of our own minds doing. Only I can try to break free. One bar at a time. So some day we can walk free and leave every behind. To sleep for all eternity with the rest of the dead and forgotten. Because therefore in the end I am only human. Weak, fragile and flesh. My it be my strength! A imperfect, yet perfect machine. So small organic organism in this big galaxy I call home.
