seanski_2110
New member
I posted this about an hour ago but I decided to re-post it as a different question. Any feedback will be appreciated. Thanks.
Memories echo through my mind.
Leaving sadness and anger in their wake,
the cause and effect of tormenting regret.
The past cannot be altered,
yet, it's bile seeps into the present,
diseasing current thoughts.
A dreary storm gathers.
Dark clouds engulf the sky.
Below, black waves violently churn,
formless soldiers crashing and colliding with each other,
their foamy blood spraying the air.
The roaring sounds of the battlefield are overshadowed by the rumbling growls above.
The booming voice gradually intensifies.
Bass and volume continue to build and grow,
build and grow,
escalating.
The world begins to collapse around this audible monstrosity,
the screams of anguish become deafening as the rumble reaches it's crescendo,
and just as the horror seems too much to bear... it stops.
In this moment, time stands still.
Detachment from the universe.
Detachment from self.
All of life culminates at a point.
Singularity.
The loneliest point.
Perpetual solitude...
Time begins to flow again.
The storm is alive once more,
signaled by an ear-splitting crack.
Fury pulses through veins,
scarring the sky with flashes of violet-white.
Overcome with anger,
directed towards self.
Anger spawned from past mistakes and failures.
Disappointment.
Disgust.
Self-hatred.
Venom-tinged claws tear and shred the inside,
my inside,
my claws.
The storm will rise again.
The whip: regret.
The shackle: self-loathing
The prison: the mind.
Memories echo through my mind.
Leaving sadness and anger in their wake,
the cause and effect of tormenting regret.
The past cannot be altered,
yet, it's bile seeps into the present,
diseasing current thoughts.
A dreary storm gathers.
Dark clouds engulf the sky.
Below, black waves violently churn,
formless soldiers crashing and colliding with each other,
their foamy blood spraying the air.
The roaring sounds of the battlefield are overshadowed by the rumbling growls above.
The booming voice gradually intensifies.
Bass and volume continue to build and grow,
build and grow,
escalating.
The world begins to collapse around this audible monstrosity,
the screams of anguish become deafening as the rumble reaches it's crescendo,
and just as the horror seems too much to bear... it stops.
In this moment, time stands still.
Detachment from the universe.
Detachment from self.
All of life culminates at a point.
Singularity.
The loneliest point.
Perpetual solitude...
Time begins to flow again.
The storm is alive once more,
signaled by an ear-splitting crack.
Fury pulses through veins,
scarring the sky with flashes of violet-white.
Overcome with anger,
directed towards self.
Anger spawned from past mistakes and failures.
Disappointment.
Disgust.
Self-hatred.
Venom-tinged claws tear and shred the inside,
my inside,
my claws.
The storm will rise again.
The whip: regret.
The shackle: self-loathing
The prison: the mind.