Dying a thousand deaths but none as worst as this.
Unrelenting and profound; pain-stricken wholeheartedly.
Lighting strikes causing splits of self, memories, and heart.
Mirrors projecting various perspectives of how one was born to this type of fate.
I chose fire to burn away this sickness.
Satisfied in knowing my “medicine” tenderizes yet singes this tainted flesh.
Freeing the soul of unwanted filth the never healed, let go, or moved on.
The need to remember all the roots of the source.
I am the little, unseen rowboat lost in my ocean of salty, bitter tears.
Once filled to capacity, now it’s just me.
No search and rescue; the forgotten, faceless specter.
Praying for death, but not even he finds my tarnish soul worth claiming.
Ridiculing the fact of my persistent yearning for the finale.
Relishing and ostracizing the deterioration of naivety.
You had purpose yet passed in your prime.
All that’s left is your legacy.
I’m unfit to even attempt to take up this torch.
Mourning this lost, and the cracks continue to deepen.
Cries of help leak.
Not seen nor heard.
Just here.
Memories through childhood how innocence was sweet.
Teen years withdrew in isolation; angst in searching for purpose.
Blossoming yet still life; forlorn enthusiasm.
Unanswered questions remain a hanging indention without completion.
Frustration lingers and misery made it his home.
Why not me?
Immortality: the immunization of death.
But not from the morale of being human.
Desolate—you left me; how I wish I could’ve taken your place.
At least you’re at peace now.

My Hell’s just beginning…
Suffering.