I come, like I always came,
the flight of an angry star,
the smash of a fallen glass,
the end of a short lived beginning

I was conceived from within
from within a brother's jealousy
I was born from within the lamenting
cries of Abel's betrayed blood
to the heavens above

I am the violent thief of life
I am the poison in Hamlet's goblet
I am human death by human will
I am Murder

I was, I am and I always will be
as long as there are humans
up until the last two humans aid
each other in death
up until the last human draws his final breath
for humans cannot live without a death
like me

look at you, with your eyes wide,
full of childish surprise
realizing that it was I
I, who rode that edge
with so much experience yet you so little
realizing that your temple
which you garnished so well and prized as strong
is just a pudding of morality

look at you, you were never
all that strong, did you really think
you were stronger?
stronger than the strongest men which
my edge has cast away before you
you never stood a chance

you are weak
weak like the ones before you
the ones that cried and whimpered before you
they all did, why whould you think you were any better?
your weakness explodes from you
when my edge is removed

my edge is gone now but my scar
still lingers on; and from it an enraged red cloud
falls
raining the petals of the luckless poppy over you

The poppy
The luckless poppy
which you now hold on to
like the overflowing bouquet of your forgotten soul
was always lingering beneath you
a Curse's mark, a mark which lead me to you
before your mother imagined you
but you still forgot

you sped through life
placing all of yourself into useless, mindless, selfishness
without even realizing what you had
you had a life to live and
you had a whole garden of flowers to share
instead you forgot

But don't you see?
none of that matters anymore,
any of your life

your body will soon be forgotten
to all but the worms
your forgotten bouquet you had to share now flows
to the forgetful snow

So you see now?
none of that matters anymore,
any of your life

the world is already forgetting you now
as your eyes continue to forget the world

you only have one short chance
you only have one short try

and

your try

is

up.

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Author guidance for This poem

I felt the excessive need to finally post something on here, so I went on a search for some half decent writing of mine. During the search, I found this poem that I wrote for a writing class a little while go. It was one of my first fictional pieces that I put a great deal of effort into. Thus, I decided it would be a half decent starting point for my Protagonize
account. I will be adding more recent stuff in the near future.

This poem (and now I'm wondering if it's technically a poem, but whatever) is the voice of Murder. If Murder was an actual humanoid-like being and could talk to its victims, it's a bit airy, far-fetched and morbid, I know. But it is what it is.

It starts out with Murder introducing herself as timeless and how she came to be. Then, she turns her attention outward to her current surprised victim, who had always prized his body but with a quick knife with Murder on the edge, he realizes just how much of a weak mortal he is, compared to an essence like Murder. Then, he is bleeding, listening to Murder as he dies. She then tells him that trying to stop the overflowing blood would be pointless, he was fated to die like this. She then criticizes him for living a superficial life, instead of a soulful life sharing his soul with people; but, of course, it doesn't matter nor his life, because he never shared his soul with others, he is just worm food now. As the life slips out from him, she tells him how the world is already forgetting him, he is that forgettable.

updated Jan 1 '01 by MissMaryButterfly