Saturday, December 10, 2016

End Of The Line

It's been seven years since I fucked up with Emily. I can live off the echoes of her memory no more. Near as I can tell, she has gone on the run, supposedly from me, believing I don't adore and respect my most favorite person in the world (in this I was deceptive). But were I to die tomorrow (in sweet mercy) she would find she'd still be running. Only then will she understand.

Without her friendship and support I am nothing. I am helpless to stop the erosion of my health. I can pretend to be living no more. Needs are needs.

The world has become one big concentration camp. With glee, they are warming up the ovens - only this time there will be no quick, merciful death. The poor, the weak, and the elderly will be first to die in slow motion terror. Worked to death, worried to death, withered to death. All this will be done in the name of God, and God will be silent.

Seeing this horror, one by one each group will line up next for extermination. They too will stay silent to the end, vainly hoping to be spared. In huddled masses they will listen to the screams. Truth has won battles but never the war. In great satisfaction, it will be seen the liars cannot pray their way off their crosses as they falsely believed. Only then will they know the value of truth.

Once the dead have removed themselves we will be free. Until that time there is nothing more to say. Only our Maker can prevent our wholesale self-annihilation at this point. We will all be asked where we stood in the time of darkness. Be prepared to have a good answer, that is the only thing left for which to live.

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