your fate is nothing

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
this goes out to everyone who was lost in a public shooting. showing the evil brought up to cause these terrible events.

Submitted: June 13, 2016

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Submitted: June 13, 2016



Brought up by darkness. 

Forged in the pits of hell.
He loathes the radiant. 
Bound by grief. 
He is chained to this heavyweight of grief.
He mourns the loss,
now empty, nothing to fill the void but anger.
Anger flows, over-flowing the emptiness.
He scratches his rash without thinking,
he scratches it too quickly without thinking of what it would cause.
He blames, now that he is taken with hate.
The hate sweeps in, a rolling fog, 
covering his vision,
he can't see clearly, covered with hate.
He walks on, though, 
stumbling down the beaten path.
The hatred burns deep inside of him,
the fires created by hell.
It is so scorching, it turns to ice.
He is chilled to the bone,
the ice travels to the heart.
It frosts over the heart,
preserving the love beneath, but impossible to get to.
With all of his love hidden and frozen,
he has nothing left.
Nothing to inspire him.
Nothing to work for.
Nothing to wait for.
Nothing for hope for.
The Nothing is so big, that it takes the place of Love.
What he is left to ponder with is Nothing.
Nothing will inspire him.
He will work for Nothing.
He will wait for Nothing.
He will hope for Nothing.
But as it turns out, Nothing is a prison. 
He is stuck alone inside a cage with Nothing.
But he wishes not to be alone in this pain.
So he aims.
He is so desperate for a target that he doesn't care who he hits.
Now he is not alone, he reached his target.
But now his target is Nothing,
only causing the Nothing to grow bigger
filling up more space in the cage.
There is not enough space to breathe now. 
He must get out of this cage, 
but he can't find Love.
He is being suffocated.
All he can see is Nothing.
The only way to go is Nothing.
It is beckoning his name,
calling him to join it.
He finds one last target.
He pulls to the long awaited trigger,
in the final step of becoming nothing. 

© Copyright 2018 Collins McElroy. All rights reserved.

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