Sunday, April 20, 2008
false dusk of desperation
he pushed the boulder to the side and tried to get up, unaware of the gaping wound below his chest. the pain that stung each time he moved was not unlike the pain he always felt before his long, self-induced coma.
the first thing he thought of was the last thing he needed. the thirst for it was what got him into this awful predicament. he ventured on, leaving a trail of blood and sweat that would only be worsened with the ingestion of the same supposed elixir that had time and time again seduced his naive soul.
and then he saw it. the oasis that smelled so familiar. if only he realised that it was the scent of pain, the same pain he was feeling now, the poison that stopped the wound from ever healing.
he knelt down beside the deceitful well of love and took a sip.
alas, the last sip of worldly pleasure he would ever taste. as the life finally rolled out of his eyes, the shattering, terrifying truth of the afterlife cynically beckons him to the promised land.
the journey finally ends for him, almost merciful in its poetic tragedy only to turn him into another victim of god's greatest gift.
-dib- at 11:25 PM