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What is worth?
...
When the vile venom is all that roils and boils within.
When the bile spews forth from the very bowels and onto the floor.
When the inner mind can only dwell on darkness and self loathing.
When the tumult is all that is left.
What is left? What is human? What is judgment?
What is worth?
All those around are afraid, or hurt, or angry.
All thoughts within are guilt, afraid, anger, and darkness.
No longer the controls on the never ending maelstrom that has always been there since remembrance.
The shell of protection is too thin and riddled with cracks.
The thread that holds within to thin, frail, and frayed.
The tremors of the deep now escape for all to see in great terrible eruptions.
My body shows signs parallel to the struggle within.
Decaying, weakening, never ending pain and aches.
Sickening, disgusting, eruptions bursting and leaking.
Why not embrace? Why not save all from this evil? Why continue to afflict the world?
Why continue this farce of worth?
What IS worth?
...
With no god, no gods, no heaven and hell.
Or if there is, then the rules say to hell this creature should be damned and contained.
Protecting the world and it's denizens from it's vileness.
Oh, to only have the strength to do what should be done. Should have been done. Many, many years before.
But instead, continuing to embrace cowardice.
Hurting things, slaying feelings, bursting confidences, destroying lives,
and spreading the infection and filth further.
With each passing year.
With each passing month.
With each passing week.
With each passing day.
With each passing moment.
One breath at a time.
Still breathing.
Still breathing the fumes of putrescence on all around.
The dark cloud slowly spreading.
Sapping the light from her eyes.
Withering her soul.
Stunting their growth.
Bringing only sorrow, confusion, hatred, tears, and anger.
Why will the world not end what it has been whittling away at for so long?
Why can't I fulfull what the universe has been telling me to complete for so long?
Why must I continue to embrace cowardice?
This creature must be put down before it slays again.
It must stop the sucking, the draining, the poisoning of all around.
If anything is worth keeping.
Then this must happen.
But what is worth? What is not worth?
The trails are all but dim glimmers of past hopes faded through dark veils of self,
intertwined with the amorphuous shrouds of opaqueness.
Not really translucent anymore.
Only images, faint and distant in the mind,
deceive the eye into thinking there is any more than naught to see stretching ahead.
Bring the last few vestiges of what is left in this dry well to the surface.
Just one more time.
Sip enough little strength to save them all.
Swallow just enough.
Dig just far enough.
To do what MUST be done.
-Hawke
September 15th, 2003
