Meaningless Death From an Empty Murderer

"Stop, stop, stop!"

The cries go through my head.
All the sounds
Drift to me.
The cussing . . .
The screaming . . .
The laughter . . .

"Stop it, please!
Dear god, make it stop!"

I'm screaming in my head.
But I don't say it,
Not out loud.
My hands shake . . .
But I don't speak.
You won't listen,
Not to me.

Why did you start this way?
What was your reason?

You don't have one.

Hate . . .
Without a cause.
Effort . . .
For no great ends.
Amusement . . .
At what extent?

Every time
I think it's stopped . . .
It hasn't.

Empty words are spoken.
Those who "stop"
Start up again . . .
Laughing . . .

I accept the bitter truth . . .
Death as the only end . . .
But part of me hopes
That life . . .
Will remain.

How foolish.

Torture, torment . . .
Where is the pleasure in that?
What sick child are you?
What has made you this way?

And I hate being
Related to you.

Oh god . . .
It stopped."

And now that it's over,
And the life is gone . . .

MURDERED IT without a reason.

A life is a life,
I don't care what it is!

You're a killer,
A murderer,
A sick bastard!

Dear GOD are you happy?


You thought you would be.
But instead . . .
You're empty.