Note of a tormented person…

I keep watching to the dark night. Watching as the full moon fights a losing battle against clouds. Watching as the wind strikes against me hard. Watching as the rain lashes through the atmosphere making its presence known to all living things.

I keep watching and waiting. Waiting to see if the heroes that our destined to save all of us will turn up tonight. Heroes we’ve always heard will be there to save our souls. I’ve been waiting for so long for mine. For my savior. All I can see right now through my cracked vision is the flight of my soul. All I can do is watch as it flies away.

But I am still standing and waiting, tormented from inside at the loss of feeling anything. Twisted but real. I know all of this requires a much needed dose of sanity. Sanity which won’t come without those saviors, those heroes. Those who I heard about from the ancient times.

They still haven’t come. I am here, in this moment, with an escaped soul. With the hand of a stormy night enticing me more and more over the edge. All I can hear is it’s thunder, some distant screams, the voices of torment from inside my head and the feeble voice of hope fading away somewhere in the distance.

It will vanish for good sometime soon, my hope. All that will be left will be the torment then. I won’t even have the capacity to feel the storm. Maybe I won’t even have the capacity to hear a tear drop fall let alone shed one.

I wish something would just take me away, I’d even settle for the grim reaper at this point.