When the Night Was Still and Quiet

When the night was still and quiet. And the sound of the blood rushing through my veins filled my ears, the only way to silence it, was to slip out into the night.  AND like the hunter that spawned me, joined in the struggle for life and death, I was alone, unable. And those around me didn’t understand, they shunned me, she cursed me, calling me vile names. I did not know why. Even now, do I know why I am driven? Why I cannot relent or repent or confess or abstain. How could I know, I have never been here before. And not one will lead me to that knowledge.

Those feelings are still a part of me. These veins are still a part of me. I control them. They do not rule me. To fit in, it is demanded, to change the one part of me I cannot change. And because I cannot, I do. That too is the mark of a good man. What enemy must a warrior battle to be appreciated and not taken for granted? 

And as the blood, the love, is slowly drained from these veins, it is a painful death. My heart withered in my chest. My breath was taken away, no breath offered in return. Suffocating only because I am loyal, true and committed. I am becoming a shell of what was once a powerful man. Weakened in these arms. Beaten to submission. Pride removed, replaced by fear. Only fools have no fear. A broken man I am. What price, at what cost, is a place in the virtual worlds? Reality eludes the master. And the rope, the one I once held with honor, now binds me. As my feelings are pushed aside, like unsaid words, as sand in the eternal sea. Closer towards the cliffs I am pushed. Her appetite for destruction is never satisfied. Feeding it has removed my bones, only my spine supported this emptiness. With creativity in bondages, manipulate and conquer becomes a formidable weapon. Slicing away, layer by layer I became what it wished for me to be. Silence of tongue and emotionally tangled in the convoluted mind of misunderstanding… I lost strength from the vixen of a virtual reality, once I was ingenious but have been reduced to ingenuous.

Yes, I must be punished, but not executed with dishonor. What burns in your eyes, fights my soul. I hear your words, and I see all as it was. Part of me longs for that time. 


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Wade Lancaster

I could tell you more about me. However, I think you will find us far more interesting, if we share more about ourselves. What do you say?

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