He Closes His Eyes

Poem With A Tale

Imagine Dragons ~ Mad World

He closes his eyes,

Fills his head with the lies.

Dreams of a far away place,

Masked with a different face.

Between his scribbled words and lines,

He weaves a new life, reaping his mind's mines,

Collecting diamonds and fame,

Taking over, shaming blame.

His eyes open, blinded by reality.

Negative thoughts and bitterly silent validity.

Alone, but was stronger than some.

Smart, but thinking numb.

Sympathizing, but criticizing.

Dreaming, but scheming? Analyzing.

Thriving within his imaginations,

While rotting from his alterations.

Changes that he strives to preach and enforce,

As he plots, he lays the course.

"Saving" those who he knows have also bled,

Cut and self-abused, those who hadn't fled,

From the pain through unleashing it unto others..

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat!

He killed his fellow peers who have been dying for years.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat!

He tortured his bullies, who had made him shed many tears.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat!

"You are the monsters,"

"All you know, is to be conquers,"

"But what you don't know, I've pondered,"

He devilishly grinned, "How to get stronger."

Dragging the fallen innocents he had "freed",

To the feet of his bullies, to watch them bleed.

"You have not suffered like us," he whispered,

"You've never hurt, never cut like us." They whimpered.

He smiled, "Now you cry..."

"Let me sing you a lullaby!"

"Before I bid you beddy-bye!"

He preached his laws he intended to create, to implement.

He believed he was sent from God to destroy the monsters, to increment.

Save his children, those who earned their freedom from hell, a true savior.

Torture monsters until they earned their peace in death, a justified slayer.

Beat 'n break the weak,

Who so desperately seek,

Power, who fight bleak fortuity,

With meek cruelty.

His God has sent him on a mission,

Brought to him in a vision,

What's seen within his fission,

Of his mind, a true ambition,

To destroy all fake cognition,

Of pain not being embraced to ignition.

He will spark their audition,

Despite their suspicion,

He has all the answers, all the details of their submission,

To the glorious savior who will help them understand his transmission.

To indulge his mighty position,

He offers an invitation,

To freedom or transition.

His eyes closed, his heart pounded.

He braced for it to burst through his chest,

His anxiety imploded, he's surrounded.

As he adjusted the straps on the bulletproof vest,

His mind racing, his twisted thoughts left him confounded.

Long he prayed to escape his own prison, he's reached the final test.

His heart once true, until away the depression blew,

His mind to a level beyond control, spiraling down,

Into a dark abyss, deeper and deeper it flew.

Always wearing a teary, dreary, weary frown.

Digging himself further and further, accepting doom.

His lust for vengeance sealing his fate, locking him within the tomb,

Of his long lost reality and embracing of his cynical fantasy.

His mind swamped with lies he pretended to be so glad to see.

He let his demons in and together they feasted on his agony.

His lack of direction of coping, a duo-induced tragedy,

Between the parenting, and his own damning choices.

Despite their cries and screams, he drowned out their voices,

With a dull look, tense silence, and a scheme at play.

Little do they know, what he prepares at bay.

His heart had been ripped open, but rather than dealing with it,

He only saw two options, either run away from it or destroy it.

In the end, we know which direction he took,

And now the other lives, he so badly shook,

Crumbling to pieces, like his own world,

Tumbling down and around, eternally whirled.

*******************************************

In his fantasy, he is "power"—however he's a guy who dreams of a different life, a make-believe world within his imagination.

While screwing his reality (bullied, outcast, parents addicted to alcohol and drugs and not "present" in his life), he writes a world where he was adored and loved.

Throughout his development years, his mental health and getting caught up in the "lies" (the fake world) gets the best of him, and he snaps.

He shoots up his school after planning it all out in his book.

He wrote and discussed with himself about the book. He believes he will find his pathway to his heaven by dying, but only if he brings others too. He targets others he sees who are miserable, the popular kids, girls who rejected him, and as for his bullies—the boy messed with them by beating them at gunpoint—slowly becoming intoxicated with power. This feeling he now had over those who powered over him before, was now engulfing him.

He believed death is the way to peace, that life is Hell and is what makes people grow with the pain, suffering, and misery. He declared that only they could die when they have endured life's tests and traumas. He said those who are miserable, are those who shall die. To give them a shortcut, a quicker route, a chance at peace to bring an end to the suffering. Those who bullied him must continue to suffer since they "broke the law" by inflicting pain on others. Tormenting them will make them learn after what they did to him and many others.

He had them locked in the cafeteria, where he kept everyone he didn't force out to a nearby room. A flurry of bullets unleashed onto those he knew were in pain. He targeted those he knew he miserable, just like him. Every person in the large room remained frozen in sheer shock and terror. Silence snuffed the life out like a wet blanket on a fire. His fellow suffering peers, bleeding out on the floor. He titled the gun at anyone near when he approached one dying student at a time to drag them away. He wanted their help to strike horror into his real prey.

Those who had bullied him were locked in a dark room he kept locked near the cafeteria.

"You are the monsters," he declared as he stepped in, gun pointed at anyone who even barely moved. He taunted them before he dragged in a few students he shot.

Soon after traumatizing them, he began his abusive process. They could hear crying next to the wall between his "dungeon" where he was "purifying" his former oppressors, and the cafeteria where he had left the rest.

Between the excruciating revenge he performed on his bullies, and his cynical beliefs for his peers, his downfall was imminent and his fate, sealed. He had locked down the school and was too busy crucifying and mortifying, to have known that he was vulnerable. A revolt was credulous due to his "power" with an assault rifle and a vast collection of other deadly weapons. He had planned this for months, and his darkened intelligence betrayed him ever since he was too blind to see one small crucial mistake. He was passionately executing revenge. A powerful quote once said by Confucius, "Before embarking on a journey of revenge, dig two graves," which reflects his tainted case.

Caught up in a rush from his power over them, he didn't realize the survivors were coming. The arrogance of his fear-striking abilities was not enough to tarnish their hope. They were working together to take him down. They found a way out of the cafeteria, and a brave few chose to take a stand and save the students he was still persecuting. Swarming him together with the advantage of surprise, they subdued him and knocked away his gun. As soon as they held him down, they started ripping off his other weapons as he thrashed about, cursing and shouting at them.

He began to panic because at this moment; he knew he hadn't yet completed his test. He still needed to die. He kept trying to fight back and bash his head against the floor. Promptly, several hands stopped him and held him still. His blood ran cold as sirens and roaring footsteps approached. His heart stopped. Closing his eyes, he felt numb. He had failed but soon began planning his suicide in prison.

He never learned to cope and instead drifted into depression and found himself lost beyond comprehension. To escape the madness he faced, he wrote. Once he had fallen into despair, he switched his writing style from a creative masterpiece into a series of plans and beliefs he created.

His tragedy had started in the home, but then transitioned into himself when he made his choices. It took a turn when he let go of his humanity and unleashed a massacre with bullets. He was refused love and support from those he needed most, and it tipped his mental health. What sent him over the edge was the bullies and the rejection of love from his peers. The combination with loneliness, depression, and trauma flipped his decision-making skills, and he chose to take a turn for the worst.

Men are the typical figure of strength, protection, and provision, but sometimes it's harder than some can take. Some didn't develop under a character of strength and morals properly and one of compassion and care. A child needs people in its life to help them grow and learn how to live life. A child needs to see: how to give, protect others and themselves, and how to stand for what's right. Handling stressful situations, learning to cope, and have hope, how to make friends. Honesty, gratitude, humility. How to write, how to walk, how to speak, how to smile...

We all need to be a little more "human" if we are going to save lives.

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Mel E. Furnish
Mel E. Furnish
Read next: Poem: New Life
Mel E. Furnish

I am a self-published author, raised in a small town on a family farm in Indiana. I

have published a handful of books so far, and I have plans for many more! Interested in more? Check out my website! * http://mel-e-furnish.com/

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