My End.

The sound of rain spilling from the heavens eases the dying feeling within my chest.

I am one of many here today, a lowly procession for the damned and depraved. I can see specters above the milky clouds, dancing and screaming at the same time, waiting to welcome the innocent home.

I am not one of them. I am wanted far below, on all nine circles.

I lie in my last moment, wishing I was nailed to a cross for all to see. I am in agony, and the light is slipping even further away. No light at the end of my tunnel, only a wallowing darkness eclipsed in black shadows. This is the end, as was my beginning, as was all of my life.

I don´t know why I thought it would be any different here.

I have drained the dregs of my very own soul and I still feel the soothing pain underneath my scars. I have crushed myself beneath the weight of another´s sin. I still feel the sting of blood leaving my body by my own free will.

And I still feel the shame for your mistake.

I have dug my own grave in the soil; shallow, lonely and easily hidden. I have left myself for the grey wolves. No amount of funeral flowers or holy water will consecrate this grave, or this god forsaken place.

I lived my life in these shadows, echoing halls where no hallowed thought haunts. I can still feel the anxious screaming, the depressed dying, the manic laughing and the suicidal screaming. So many shadows, in only one hall.

It was only a matter of time.