To die

We are who we are. So many reasons, causes.

They will burn the prophet.

Won't they?

So much pain and loneliness. So much good too, but I don't want to see it. Do I like pain?

Sadistic pervert.

Maybe.

So what?

I wish I could one day say that without fear. "So what?"

My body is tired and weak. My search for love is in vain. To die. To die I wish.

What was the point of this burden called life...no point, no purpose.

Oh, the magic of silence I forgot. A soothing balm. I'll try that.

Jealousy and opposition is what I face. They will burn the prophet. Can I escape?

I think not.