The Reverse Butterfly EffectMature

It is raining, my tears are draining, my life has become distaining.

Here I am again, begging for it to end, looking for someone to lend me there knife, so I can sacrifice my life.

Suddenly I can no longer see the light, my blight has returned, it begins to burn, the pain is mine to blame.

What happened? I have stumbled into a dream, a theme of horror, no longer can I bother with the mediocre.

It is summoning me, burning me, calling me, it is taking over, I have deduced that I have returned to the state of a mourner.

The red blood falls, I cry, my hand becomes like that of a limp dolls.

My yells echo through out the halls. My cleansing is anything but mending.

The scars line my arms, like registration bars.

The pain is a permanent distain, it will always remain.

I am haunted, not by a ghost, but by my internal minds host.

I am broken, my mind is a joke, I should not have spoken.

Silence is my burden. Significance is irrelevant. Solitude is my life.

I must burden my irrelevant life. I must continue my mistake.

I am a total feeling of distaste.

I cannot remake my life. I am not a piece of clay to be altered.

I am the failure that reflects in the mirror.

My inner fear, has seeped through to become me.

Forever I will remain.

I am a hollow shell of the man that used to reflect me.

I have become the fear that capsuled inside me.

Souless and lifeless, hopeless, and caged.

The End

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