"My Life Story"

Is it worth recalling?

Pain, under the alias Heinrich Gustav, sighed as he held the pencil over the blank sheet. Poetry had been his resort to escape his troubled life. His life was even more troubled than most sixteen-year-olds…

All has been taken from me

My life, my rights, my innocence

Nothing remains of the young man

Who once possessed my body

Now all that remains is darkness

Lifeless and emotionless

What point is there in documenting my story?

Setting his pencil down, the blonde boy leaned back with a scowl across his face. His grim, irritated expression had never once left him over the years of his existence. Except for one occasion when it had shown pure horror…

Who was Pain, the young man of many names? Pier Miguel, Peter Jacques, Heinrich Gustav…?

Pain could only be unearthed through his poetry. Rarely did he speak. Rarely did he express any form of emotion. And rarely was his noticed. Unless of course one was unfortunate enough to be staring down the barrel of his gun or tasting the blade of his sword.

The pain of existence is hard to bare

For one who has seen many ages

It drives the mind insane

The eternal agony

Of one's immortality

Poetry speaks infinite words of its writer's life and feeling. It takes a keen sight of the reader to notice…

In the dark I see no light

In the light I still see darkness

And the face of one whose evil exceeds all other

Can it be that this is the price of my sins

Can it be that even the Tormentor

Has his Tormentress?