Kill me

I see dead people.

The dead who walk during the day, but cry their hearts out in the dark bowels of the night.

The stringed instruments ring. Sad songs echo the dead in their despairing.

End this torment, they plead.

They wish to yield. But, the pain clings onto them like a mother clinging onto her dying babe.



Oh yes, I see dead people.

The dead who smile in the crowds of companions, but howl in anguish at their loss.

The drums rumble. Hollow, meaningless beating resonate in their empty, shattered hearts.

Kill me, I beg.

My heart is leaking and all the love inside is flowing away, flowing into the depths of purgatory.

Kill me. Before my empty heart shrivels into a rotten fruit of hate.