The Thirst

The thirst: it kills me,

Yet somehow I live,

Haunted, angry,

Tired.

What Deity would send this curse?

What foul creature,

Angel or demon,

Could inflict...

This?

Feasting on flesh is,

Bad, isn't it?

I no longer know.

I remember things from before:

love, happiness,

Breath.

Now, each moment is suffocation,

My lungs,

They are dead.

As you will be.

Soon.

Do not question my morals,

My heart, or my intention.

I have none.

I am the beast that stalks the night.

The lion of the darkness.

I know that you suffer,

But I don't care.

I... Can't.

It takes over.

The thirst,

It moves me.

It sends shivers through my spine.

Air through my lungs,

And blood through my veins.

Yes, I know suffering.

I know it too well.

Here I exist,

Endlessly in limbo,

Consumed by the unquenchable,

The untameable,

Thirst.

So I found this little gem in my Facebook Memories today… from five years ago!

I don’t remember it in the slightest, and it struck me as something I simply had to re-share now that I’ve developed and evolved as a writer. I don’t often write in this kind of way at all, (though below I’ve linked a rare exception) and rarely even write horror these days.

Maybe I should revisit my roots in the coming weeks and months?

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. Until next time…