The world is dead, a whore who which has been beaten and abused by it's pimp, a whore that had allowed itself to be violated and abused, a prostitute that never stopped to question the way she was being violated, the world had been stripped of all that made it great, harvested dry of fuel, the life that it nourished going extinct at an alarming rate, it's forests and jungles being shaved from it's face like stubble from a man's face. Sorrow left by the footprints of the politicians who played chess with mens lives, treating themselves as kings and all other pieces on the board as pawns, sacrificial lambs, cattle led to a slaughter, until only the so called kings were left standing riddled the face of the battered wife that is the planet men call home.
I am Egan, an avenging angel, a murderous madman, a peacekeeper, an anarchist, sinner, saint, life giver, death bringer, man, machine.... I am a walking contradiction. A living, if you can call what I am alive, Question mark.
I kill therefore I am, I save therefore I impact, I watch therefore I witness.
Life, death, heaven, hell, rotting in the ground, purgatory, slowly waiting for the Reaper's scythe, suddenly being torn in half by it.... These hold no meaning to me, a man turned to a killer, not by what I was forced to become, I was a murderer prior to that, but by what the world has become, a whore.
I lick my steel lips with my plastic tongue, an artificial man in a far more artificial world.
I hate what I am, what I do, and what I cause others to do.
I am a sinner, not a saint, I bring death, not life, I am a whore, not a virgin.
The many events of my life had led to the many events of my death, and the many events that predated the two, and proceeded the two for that matter seemed of little consequence now.
As I stand hollow, alone, and broken... "What am I doing in this world?" I say in a shattered broken whisper, I am not a machine, I am a man, who is no longer a man, a being forced to be something he is not, a weak man forced into being strong, a scavenger rebuilt into a predator, a man forced to become a monolith.
Who am I?
Wimp turned warrior.
Victim turned Violator
All I am when it is said and done, all any of us are when it is left to the decision of the cosmos and it's creator, are machines, programmed to go about our lives as though we have control over anything we do, while in fact, our fates were decided when we burst screaming from the womb, bastard children of a broken world, destined to live our lives slowly marching towards the cliff that is death like hapless lemmings.
Then again, maybe it's just me.
Closing personal files of Egan The Vile-1
THE END
Final Days (21+)
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