Reborn from the fire, i have returned to this place. long has my absence been, but once more does my Darcness wander this plane.
Enjoy the story of my life.....
You grow up.
You grow up, age one to five,
By all appearances seeming to thrive.
Something happens, of which you cannot comprehend.
The parents you held so close, their life comes to an end.
You are left alone, a child with no company to enjoy.
The life you once lived is gone, you understand you will never again be a true boy.
Strangers with badges come, putting you into a new family,
With whom you know you will not feel glee.
You grow up, six to seven,
In that time your families numbers grow from two to eleven.
Each one worse than the last,
The final ending in a gun blast.
By this time you are again on the street,
The horrors even seem less discreet.
You grow up, eight to ten,
So soon joining the ranks of men.
Yet more men, more badges, more horrible families.
They try to help, but you are just beat again, this time you almost lose sanity.
You run, again on the street you have joined in the horrors.
They seem to be your new home, just without borders.
But yet men still come, you know what they want.
Another family, you expect pain, but they act out no such stunt.
For the men are watching, waiting to see if you are bad or the families are.
You all put on a lovely masquerade, a happy family, how bizarre.
The men leave, and sure enough more pain, but you are tired of running.
You grow up, ten to fifteen.
Your life now holding the same sheen.
Pain anger hate and loss is all you know.
You stay with the people, for they are the lesser of the evils you know.
You even meet someone; their light is infectious,
You can't help but be reckless.
For all this time you did not know happiness or love, but with her you do.
You can't help it, but you feel born anew.
Then she leaves you shattered and alone.
For that brief moment you knew joy, now you are just chilled to the very bone.
You no longer care what happens to you or anyone at all,
Just about ending the pain and misery before your last fall.
You grow up, now in your sixteenth year.
In the face of this physical pain you no longer have fear.
The people that struck you, their punishment will be severe.
You grow up,seventeen, eighteen, nineteen,
time now likes to fly, you life drifting farther from 'alright'.
Wandering the darcness, fighting the light,
knowing every day is filled with plight.
Waking in the mornings, fighting to breath,
Just as you get ahead, life steals your reprieve.
Life is a struggle, filled with pain,
Promises of agony, fighting in vain.
Unexpectedly lifes anguishes shift, intensify,
The world watches as things crumble, laughter in their callous eye.
Someday the laughter will stop, will die in their throats,
The day must come soon, for you are breaking, losing hope.
At last comes your twentieth year. A break from the pain, an interlude of light.
For the first time in your pathatic life your absent of your fright.
But like all things in your life this does not last. You find yourself once more following the road of suffering. You see a light, but after a life of darcness it seems a trap.
Alas, who knows what lays ahead in your future, perhaps this last light will not be yet anoth will o' wisp.. Perhaps dreams can come true for servants..
