dancingwithdeathtonight

[dancingwithdeathtonight]

You were a biotic weapon forged from hatred and greed.

You were never designed to live the life of a normal human civilian.

You are a wolf trying to play sheep. A lion pretending to be weak.

You are living a life of a ghost that never existed in the first place.

You were designed to break, to kill, to burn — you were not made to mend, to heal, to salvage.

You cover mirrors to avoid seeing what you really are, and now it’s time to unveil the window to your soul. It’s time for you to face who — what you really are.

I should know. I made you after all.

Wake up. Come home, my beautifully disastrous creation.

The world is in need of judgement day and you are the one to bring the judgment.

— A villain to their creation.

[dancingwithdeathtonight]

“Hey, mom. I don’t think I’m coming home tonight.”

“I’m caught up in the rain. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, okay. I love you too - yeah, bye.”

I won’t be seeing her tomorrow, or ever again. At least, not here. Maybe from above?

I don’t like lying to my mother but if I think about it, maybe it’s not really all that far from the truth.

I’ll see you tomorrow, mom - when you look up to the skies and see the sunset paint the sky a beautiful ray of colors. That’s me saying hey.

I’ll see you tomorrow, mom.

[dancingwithdeathtonight]

“You should leave.” She breathes shakily into the air. The wounds finally getting to her and at the worst time. Blood trails over her body like a river only to fall to the grass below and taint it a sickening red.

He hesitates. How could he leave her? In this state? With these wounds and with what comes ahead? He shakes his head and is stern with his answer. “No. I won’t leave you.” His hand, covered in scars and callouses, so rough yet touches her so gently.

He brings the wounded rabbit pretending to be a wolf in his arms while she sobs. “There is no reason for us both to die here… This is my fight..” Her voice is shaky and broken just like her soul. “You should’ve never been involved.. I’m sorry..!” She chokes on her own breath - feeling her tears flow just as heavy as the blood leaking from her wounds.

His hand rests on her back while the other keeps her head to his chest. If this were to be his final moments, he’s glad it’s with her. He’s just as troubled - seeing the person he loves tremble and breakdown, bleeding and mortally wounded, begging for him to leave… It hurts and kills worse then any wound he could ever receive.

His voice, soft, comforting, low… Speaks to her in words that she has never heard before. “Your fight is my fight. You bleed, I bleed. Should this be our last moments.. I’m glad it’s with you.” A single tear drops from his solemn eyes.

They’re here. This is it.

The two look to each other and share a deep look. Tears and blood mix but bring them together. They smile and lean to kiss for what may be their final one.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Content with where they were, they stand to battle. Hoping they’d be buried next to each other so they could be together in the after-life as well.

[dancingwithdeathtonight]

But, please let me be the first to tell you that I feel no remorse for you.

[dancingwithdeathtonight]

I’ve lived for centuries but this is the only life that matters to me because of you being in it.

[dancingwithdeathtonight]

What did I do so wrong that I deserve this fate? What was my crime? Was it so great that I deserve to be punished from the beginning? Was I a horrible person in my past life, were my crimes from then following me now?

Tell me, what was my crime?

Being born, is the crime.

[dancingwithdeathtonight]

My tears mean nothing in the face of God.

The blood I spill is my own and I hurt the people who care for me.

If I am to live for a reason, what is the reason?

To live in pain so that I could teach others what not to be?

Out of the billions of people who live on this Earth, why am I any different? What is my purpose that is so great that you beg me to stay?

I hate this flesh I live in.

I’m only young but I feel as if I’m worse than the criminals in prison.

Let my purpose go to someone better. For I was put on this world to be an example of what not to be. For I was put on this world mistakenly.

Let my tragedy be a warning, an example, to the young minds of this world.

An example of what not to be.