They said I was a coward, a failure, a nobody. And so I
became what they said I was. Their torments pierced straight to the heart of
me, burnt me to smoking crisp, until all that was left was a small pile of ash
and a few drops of dried blood.
Their words became weapons. Their hatred my death.
They go along their merry way, uncaring of the path of
destruction that lies in their wake.
But you see me. You reach out your merciful hand to the
dead.
And I, so lost and lonesome, stare straight back at you.
This is so utterly eerie and powerful all at once.
ReplyDeletewow. excellent work.
ReplyDelete