By Peter Harper
Open your eyes.
The rain trickles into the creases instantly blurring my stolen vision.
The dampness confusingly comforts me.
The striking wetness begins to sink deep into my soles and traveling up into my organs.
Silence.
Loneliness creeps near.
A darkness like never before.
I witness serpents at knee- level, slithering towards my throne.
Succumbing my nerves and igniting the flamed emotion out of my path, without translation.
It’s time.
Shadows of my life surround and salute beneath my feet.
Ushering me to make that final decision.
Urging me to take that monumental step.
They worship me and hail me the king of blackness and despair.
I am that silhouette that has laced across pavements onto vacant cobbled-stones and brick walls, underneath a sorrowful glazed window of a once praying child, wishing for escape.
Decades have passed in the blink of an eye.
Blink one last time and heighten myself to be inserted forever within my everlasting mind.
Close my eyes.
Breathe.
Close my eyes.
It’s time.
Please forgive me for what I’m about to do.
The pain is so overwhelming, piercing my heart that I have no choice, but to let go, to say goodbye.
The stars have disappeared and all explanations have been adjourned.
I’m scared, but I am at peace.
It’s time.
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