Lost Soul. Not a subtle inspiration. Story of a curse. Written after a bad day.
Lost Soul
Bearer of the curse…
You shamble back and forth, seeking meaning. Any guidance from fate on what to do.
Your movements mean nothing and nothing mean the hardships you conquer. Carcasses of the undead pile at your feet and your blade loses some of its might with every strike. What will become of you in one day… two days… ten days? I shudder and ask you to consider.
Bearer of the curse…
What does your soul desire?
Do you think, when the curse is lifted, you will be at peace? Will your suffering end? What will you do then? What final moments will set you free? I wouldn’t imagine you know the answer. An eternal overcast of dark clouds is the sky we know. The sun never rises.
Bearer of the curse…
You don’t think I’m quite real.
And yet, how would you free yourself from the illusions? They’re real to you. Sometimes they lend you a helping hand, and sometimes they let you slip into the darkness. In the end… who determines what is real and what’s not? We’ve seen each other many a time. You put faith in me, and I do my best to help you. What will come of me when you deem me unworthy of your belief?
…where do illusions go to die?
Bearer of the curse…
What do you think you will accomplish?
Fate has other plans for you than where you’re heading. You seek to defy… the will of our reality.
What does a dying man feel?
Among the fear that embellishes their minds, surely they find time for sorrow. A man struck with an axe may cry for their family, or curse their aggressor. They aren’t gone yet, but death will come soon all the same…
You’re already cursed like them. But, your demise will come slowly. You may find more stabbing sadness or burning anger. Your suffering cries are lost in the wind…
Bearer of the curse…
I will always be at your side.
Your path is arduous regardless of the outcome. The tapestry is deeply soaked in blood and grit. Your insides will turn to gravel and your mind… to dust. Erosion of the soul is at hand. You will waiver many a time and witness what you could swear are depths of hell itself.
Will you stop then?
You shall stay undead…
Until hope has fully withered.
Jan. 13.01.2021.