Mysterious as the life of stars, I live on.
I never wanted it to be like this,
But somehow I knew I did. I used to be a white star, created from the mysts of God's nebula, but now that star has collapsed and I am a black abyss. Not even God's Light can survive within me; only an obscure nothingness that threatens to consume my soul.
My fear that others should know who I am is dissipating in increasing increments, and I know there is little I can do to stop it. I've created my own world. It's taken longer, I know, but it is more pure than what was created in days.
From my eyes, springs of sorrow flow, and my eyes are ever-distant from the light and meld into evil's shadows. Like an underground river, my thoughts are kept unknown, one after another following a single-meandering path through mud and blackness.
My untouched skin is etched in both old and new scars from where God's "perfect" world has thrust her daggers of heresy and pain into my soul. Yet the world wonders why I am who I am and why I wear what I wear...What I wanted, what I needed, is still nowhere to be found in the world, and she still does not believe in me...
My pale body is unspoiled by love, but is saturated in my need for hatred and evil. New sinews are grown every time a whiplash is dealt from God's "perfect" creation. Someone tell me how it came to be this way, that the world herself believes that she is the only ultimate answer for all our needs...There is a balance to both the material and spiritual composition of Man, and Christians say that God is the only path to fulfill that sweet balance. Yet, if what they say is true, then why do I detest Him so? If He is my destiny, then why was I born for this? I no longer know all the answers! All my logic points to darkness and leaves God wanting.
How is it then possible, if all of the world has the capacity to love God, yet I am felt bereft of security and the path to righteousness? I have sunk to sitting at a dead end, watching as the holy chariots pave a road that sears my skin. How can I find God and keep Him, if I am not meant to be on this darkened, forsaken road?
My sorrow and confusion are such that I want to scream in never-ending agony, yet I do not have my voice. It was taken with my warmth long ago when I suffered.
