She came to me as I disciplined my last breath in my chest. She came to me igniting a cataclysmic fire in my heart ripping apart everything I once knew about myself. She came to me possessing the same irrevocable compulsion so predominantly inscribed in my very veins that death itself payed the piper, relinquishing a cold shoulder. And in that same instant a paradoxical passion overwhelmed me as I was without regret or hesitation. She came to me; hope had came to me. What karma had I collected to conquer such calamity. My spent years lingering in dismal suspension as if to prepare me for my most excellent moment. And in this repentant sentiment my thoughts and actions transcended time and I lost all recollection of myself. It was black and cold when I awoke. Hope had left me, but not in the traditional sense for I was enlightened, renewed, reinvented. Alive. Hope was not something that I needed rather something I could create. Such fundamental truths always eluded my ego and even so I wonder, what other parts of myself had I lost. Ironic it seemed, accidentally sparking hope as I wondered about such things arbitrarily infected with the idea. Hope that I could grow more, learn more....become more. That is what I always wanted it seemed. Some things more than others and regrettably so my lust would drive unspeakable means to cruel and dismally diabolic ends. I hesitantly asked what else had I let drive my soul, but I already knew the answers. My hesitation wasn't due to what I knew, but the horrific mystery of what I didn't. The things that I did to which I could offer no mere excuse; things that I could not answer as to why. I felt as if I use to be a walking nightmare but I now know what it truly means to be haunted. A nightmare I was but could be no longer, jaded by my own mind; betrayed.
this is absolutely divine!
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