Posted By: The Reclaimer<email@example.com>
Date: 4 March 2006, 6:58 pm
My mind races with thoughts
treacherous thoughts, murderous thoughts.
God has deserted me; left me to die here,
this hopeless, dark, facility of the real.
I kill my own, my body trying to stop me,
my life, my body, is blown in two.
But my life does not end here,
the other has one last use for me.
My body moves, grows, I feel more faint
I can feel my heart beat no more
I feel cold, why haven't I died yet?
My life, my hopes, destroyed by the flood.