Temptations: The Sagacity of Demons.

Listen to: The wind, for it cries – silently, with her tonight.

This is it; she thought. This is the end of the end, and it was not as happy as everyone described it to be. The road she walks is engraved in failure; the air she breaths is saturated with disappointment; this darkened sun is beaming pain instead of rays of sunshine; and that poisoned ivy she lived on has taken the best of her.

Pain; leave – her pleas, screams, shouts are maimed. No response; but more pain of pain. She had drunk enough pain that pain itself ridicules her absurd weakness. Ah, no more hiding, no more fear; she thinks to herself in front of a careless crowd as she removes her countless masks. Yes, all of this fakeness; exercised happiness, restricted thoughts, trained optimism, yes; yes, all of it goes.

As she breaks down and melts into nothingness she is accused of overdramatizing her masked emotions; enough, enough. What do they know but what she allows them to know. Who plays whom; she wonders. Is she the master of her own? Or is it they – those who hurt her, those who abandoned her, those who ridiculed her, those who judged her, those, those, these, these, them, and all of them.

Today she looks into the mirror of her true reflection. How could they be silent to this much ugliness; she painfully doubts. Mostly all people have a balanced equation between their interior and exterior, but she is not most, she is one young lady staring into a mirror that reflects both her insides and outside; a painting of herself. O, the atrocity of it all.

Her thoughts are a complete mess. This is the first and only time of her life where she felt vulnerable towards nothingness. That monster that creeps within us; that mass of darkness that never takes over has almost taken over her entire being. She has those dark thoughts; God Forbid. She prays they exit her mind, for she can fight her demons for only so long.

She has searched long enough for the source of the pain, and alas finally located the bleeding wound within her. The source of agony, the beauty in ache, the throbbing of the truth; the mother of all woe lies in front of a helpless her. The only way to rid of this net of darkness, and those damned thoughts; is to rid of herself.

She wonders if this is indeed the end. She thinks of a well to write, but she owns nothing worthy. She thinks of wisdom to share, but she is only an inch of age. She thinks of love, but finds no one to share it with. She thinks of family, alas, they had all given up – or really, they never cared to begin with. She thinks of friends, but no – she spent her life building walls and fences around her that no one pushed through. She has no one but her vulnerable self and vile demons.

Those demons are thoughts of self-riddance; forbidden they are, forsaken she will forever be – she wonders at this late of night if she would ever see the light of day again. Perhaps this darkness certainly got the best of her. This earth never welcomed her, its people always harmed her; even what nature gave her as family, and at most those she devoted her life to. Not only did she fail in her battles, but she lost the ultimate war against pity and pride.

Maybe God has better plans for her, but for now – she has no plans to herself but to cease the inner war within her, begin anew – or end it all and for once; taking control of her destiny.

Note: She never knew they could this much pain in this world, or God would give power to anyone to harm one person by such means and depths. She never knew it would get worse than her worst; and there could not have been any worse than what she was in.

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