The Beast we created
So much time has past and I sit here trying to comprehend everything. Why am I here? Where will I go? What I have done? Does it have a purpose? If there is action, then there is accountability and am I accountable? I certainly feel accountable, responsible for every word spoken and breath taken. I feel my wrists as I look up out the window and can feel those chains gripping at them like a vice trying to prevent my blood from escaping. Chained to this immortal body which doesn't forget me for a moment not giving me a break or even a chance to breathe. Why? How long do I have to keep drowning in this vacuum called life? Where nothing grows except my sins which stab and turn in me every time I remember you. In a field where everything just decays and rots, how can there be hope? It's so cold in here that I can see my breath freeze in time. I look at it from all angles watching it's sculptured beauty. How can a breath from the most darkened of places have any beauty? A brea...